


A Study in Scarlet Witches

by benwisehart



Category: Marvel 616, Scarlet Witch (Comic), Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Juvie, Mentions of Past Human Experimentation, Mother-Son Relationship, POV Third Person Omniscient, Scarlet Witch Tommy, Time Warper Tommy, Viv is Billy and Tommy's sister, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-14 09:56:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10534098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benwisehart/pseuds/benwisehart
Summary: She’s happy to see him. She always is, but the unexpectedness and late hour of the visit catch her off guard, and she can’t help but worry, wonder if he’s okay. “What’s the matter? Is everything alright?”Tommy is flustered and nervous when he finally responds. “I want to be the next Scarlet Witch,” he blurts out.Wanda blinks.“You had better come inside, then.”





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Since I’ve more or less found my fanfic niche in the form of “Tommy Shepherd being a disgusting Mama’s Boy and bonding with his new family” I figured I’d take the next logical step and, in grand Marvel tradition, throw established continuity out the door in favour of answering the question; “What if Tommy became Wanda’s successor instead of Billy?” 
> 
> Reading Wanda's solo is not necessary for this story, but I will reference it somewhat, along with Vision's solo later on and various other titles.

It’s late when Wanda hears the knock on her door. 

She has finished her dinner and is drinking a cup of tea before bed. It isn’t often these days that she allows herself the opportunity to indulge in a quiet night off, but tonight is one such night; she’s tired, curled up on her couch with the cup held in both hands. Moonlight from the large window that opens her apartment to the city filters through, casting the large, open living room with silvery light, and Wanda is content, calm. 

The knock brings her back to her senses. She sits up in the couch with a frown, turning in her seat to look toward the door, and for a moment she wonders if she was expecting a guest she’s somehow forgotten about, but no.

Pietro would have let himself in. Any of the Avengers would have called ahead. Putting her cup aside, Wanda gets to her feet, making her way to the apartment door. Normally, she would look through the peephole, but on this occasion, she knows who is at the door a few moments before she reaches it.

“Tommy!”

She’s happy to see him. She always is, but the unexpectedness and late hour of the visit catch her off guard, and she can’t help but worry, wonder if he’s okay. “What’s the matter? Is everything alright?”

Tommy, for his part, looks contrite, although Wanda can’t imagine why. It’s not uncommon for him to drop by unannounced—quite the opposite, in fact—but he has a key. Usually, he lets himself in. It’s odd for him to look so apprehensive at the prospect of being here, like all of a sudden he thinks he might not be welcome.

Tommy is flustered and nervous when he finally responds. “I want to be the next Scarlet Witch,” he blurts out.

Wanda blinks.

There are a lot of things she might have imagined him saying. There are so many reasons he might have shown up at her apartment at such an hour. This, though…it doesn’t come close to any of them. She’s surprised at first, of course, and then…confused, but her response is not unwelcoming; she steps away from the door, holding it open for him.

“You had better come inside, then.”

 

* * *

 

 

Tommy’s sitting on the other side of the couch now, holding a mug in one hand and clenching the other into a fist. He hasn’t made eye contact since he arrived.

He feels stupid for coming here. This was a dumb idea—a fact which he was aware of exactly one minute before _deciding_ to come. He did it anyway, though, in a moment of temporary clarity—or temporarily insanity, whatever you want to call it. He knew that if he left it another minute he’d talk himself out of it, and so he didn’t, and now he is regretting it, but there isn’t much he can do about it, which is exactly what one-minute-ago-Tommy intended; it’s not like he can reverse time. _Curse you, one-minute-ago-Tommy_.

“Are you alright?” Wanda asks, looking at him with nothing but concern over the rim of her teacup. “You look very pale.”

She’s waiting for him to elaborate, but Tommy doesn’t want to. He distracts himself by fiddling with the tassel on one of Wanda’s cushions.

“People always seem to think that. It’s the hair, I reckon,” he says, raising the mug. He planned on taking a small sip of the hot tea, but once he gets it to his mouth, he ends up drinking the whole thing in one go. 

“What did you want to talk to me about?”

Tommy puts his cup down. “Yeah, forget I said anything. It really doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does.” Wanda extends her hand, touching his wrist. “Tommy, please. I want to understand.”

Tommy shuffles awkwardly, looking anywhere but at her, and he mutters something too quiet and too fast for her to catch.

“You told me you wanted to be the next Scarlet Witch,” Wanda prompts, after a moment has passed. 

“I know it’s stupid,” he mumbles.

“What were you hoping I would say?”

“I—don’t know.”

“Alright…well, what were you expecting me to say?”

“I don’t know! That it’s stupid!” Tommy huffs. “Which I already know, by the way. I’m not—I’m not Billy. I’m not _you_. I don’t have expectations, I just don’t get why I can’t stop _thinking_ about it.”

“How long have you felt this way?”

Tommy falls silent again, now fiddling with the empty mug. 

Wanda watches him with patience, a hint of awe written upon her face.

Ever since she found out about Natalya, there was a part of her that was…well, she doesn’t want to say hoping, but a part of her that was _wondering_ deep down if, just as she is not the first Scarlet Witch, perhaps she would not be the last. The mantle has been handed down through her family for generations, a legacy passed from witch to witch, parent to child. Wanda has borne that mantle for her entire adult life—it is her identity, a part of her long before she knew its history. 

How could she do anything _but_ wonder if perhaps, one day, one of her children would choose to continue that legacy? Even if they are not really hers, not any more. Even if actually asking such a thing would be overstepping her boundaries. 

If she’s honest with herself, though, whenever she entertained such a possibility, it was always Billy who took her place. Billy, the spell caster. Billy, the one everyone was afraid would end up like her. Yet here Tommy is, shuffling his feet in embarrassment, and Wanda can’t help but wonder if she’s sold him short.

“I don’t really know,” he says at last. “It’s—a while—I don’t _know_. I wasn’t really aware of it, but—” Tommy pauses again, and when he does continue speaking, it’s all in a rush, tripping over himself as he struggles to find the right words. “It feels like it’s been forever, like I’ve always known, but I didn’t really—I guess if I had to pin it down, I’d say when I got back from that alternate dimension I was trapped in, is when I really started thinking about it, um, not-ironically. Now it’s just—it’s all I can think about. I already know how that sounds, you don’t have to—” 

“ _Tommy_.” Wanda moves her hand to take his own, shifting a little bit closer so she can hold it between both of hers. “My darling, you have nothing to be ashamed of. I’m so happy you felt like you could come to me with this.”

Tommy exhales sharply, trying to make himself relax, and tentatively, Wanda puts her arm around his back. He turns into her instinctively, and she can feel his tension. 

He wishes he could give a cohesive answer, but it’s not a cohesive thought. It’s confusing and messy and he can’t put it into words, but damn him, he can try. “I don’t know when it started,” he repeats, carefully. “It didn’t feel like a…new thought, when I first had it. It kind of felt…like it was something I already thought on a regular basis. ‘I’m the Scarlet Witch’.” He exhales. “Except I’m not. I don’t have magic powers like Billy’s. I’m just _fast_.”

Wanda considers this for a moment, her silence prompting Tommy to crane his head back and look at her. “I don’t claim to know everything about magic, Tommy,” she says at last, “but I do know that there are as many forms of it as there are people who use it. My powers are vastly different from your brother’s, just as his are different from Doctor Strange’s, just as we’re all different from Doctor Voodoo, or Magik, or Victor von Doom. I will tell you, though, that in the strictest definition of the word, Billy’s powers are no more or less magic than yours are.”

She meets Tommy’s gaze. “Magic isn’t a superpower, Tommy. It’s a learned skill that takes years of practice to master. Witchcraft involves drawing on the ambient magical energies that exist everywhere in nature and focusing them into our spells. It’s an art and a skill that has been developed and handed down through generations upon generations of witches, most of whom had no intrinsic powers of their own, mutant or otherwise.”

“So…what, anyone can do it? Is that what I’m getting here?” Tommy asks, frowning.

“Of course not,” Wanda tells him. “But those who _could_ , could be anyone.”

“Oh.” 

“Even amongst witches, our craft is a personal one,” Wanda explains. “Every witch will experience it differently; the journey is in finding the path that’s right for _you_ , the individual. My powers aren’t born of witchcraft, but learning it has helped me control them, understand them. It can be that way for you as well.”

Tommy is quiet for a moment, and he straightens up, although he doesn’t move away from her.

“I just can’t understand why I feel so…drawn,” he admits. “Like this is the one thing I was always meant to be doing. You know?”

“It was that way for me as well,” Wanda tells him softly. “I suppose it was easier for me. My powers did resemble magic, and I had no reason to think there was ever another person to bear the title, but the moment I knew my powers, I knew I was the Scarlet Witch. Just like it was for my mother, and her father before her.”

At this, Tommy is taken aback. “You weren’t the first?”

Wanda’s face softens. “No, I wasn’t the first. My people, the Roma, travelled extensively; the Scarlet Witch’s history has fallen into myth and folklore, but I’ve been able to trace it back somewhat. It’s been in our family, the Maximoff family, for at least three generations, quite probably more. It’s only fitting that it should come to you now. This is your birthright.”

“I’m not sure I’m the right person for it, Mom,” Tommy mumbles. “Even if my powers _were_ like magic, or I could learn to use it the way you can…I’m not, you know…”

He doesn’t want to say it, but it’s pointless beating around the bush. 

“You’re not really my mom,” he says at last. “…Not anymore…and I haven’t lived like you have. I’m not a Maximoff. I’m just some kid from New Jersey.”

Wanda takes his hand again, but she doesn’t respond immediately, contemplating how best to answer. 

She is confused, she won’t pretend she’s not. This is not something she could have predicted, and what Tommy said isn’t wrong. She doesn’t know the exact nature of how she came to know she was the Scarlet Witch; she doesn’t even know the exact nature of how Billy and Tommy are related to her, not really.

She does know that this…it isn’t something she wants to question, at least not right now. She still has her doubts about her role in her children’s lives; she still wonders if she has the right to call herself their mother, after all the time she missed, but this is all the evidence she needs that they are hers. “Tommy…the fact that you feel this way now is proof that none of that matters,” she tells him, meeting his eyes. “…You’re my son, in whatever way it is that counts. My family is your family. My legacy is your legacy. If this truly is something that you want then I will do everything in my power to teach you.”

He wrings his fingers nervously. “Yeah?”

“Of course,” Wanda says. In a lighter tone, she adds, “…Don’t misunderstand me, I have no intention of stepping down from this role any time soon, but learning takes time…and if somebody ever _were_ to take my place, having that person be you would be my honour.”

And then Tommy wraps both arms around her, putting his face against her shoulder and holding tightly. Wanda is taken aback, but only for a second before she smiles, wrapping her arms around him too and resting her chin on top of his head, still smiling. He’s a sweet boy, so different around her when they’re alone to when they’re with other people.

They stay like that for a while; Wanda lets her gaze wander out the window again, watching the New York City skyline with a curious expression. 

Tommy has her colour. It’s a strange thought—she only ever sees him in green—and it might take some getting used to, but it’s far from an unwelcome one. 

“When can we start?” Tommy asks then, letting go and sitting up. Wanda allows her arms to drop, although she leaves her hand on Tommy’s back.

“Not tonight, I’m afraid,” Wanda replies grimly, having to stifle a yawn. 

“I didn’t mean _tonight_ ,” Tommy huffs, making Wanda chuckle. “Just, you know, some point. Not that there’s any rush, I’m sure you’re busy.”

“I’m not doing anything tomorrow?” Wanda says sincerely.

Tommy looks at the ground, pleased. “Yeah…yeah, I’d like that.”

“Then you should get some rest,” Wanda says. “…Have you eaten anything?”

“Um, yeah, I’m—I’m good.” Tommy stretches, picking up their empty cups and disappearing briefly to run them to the kitchen. Despite his words, he pauses once he’s in there, quickly glancing inside the fridge before he can stop himself. Wanda is getting to her feet when he returns, knowing he’ll probably raid her cupboards later in any case. 

Tommy stops then. “And, um, Mom? …Thanks.”

He looks down bashfully, drawing a fond smile from Wanda, who briefly kisses the side of his head. “You’re welcome, my darling…and thank you for telling me about this. I promise we’ll talk more about it soon.”

“Goodnight, Mom.”

“Goodnight, Tommy.”

 

* * *

 

Tommy’s room at Wanda’s place feels more like his own than anything he’s had post-juvie. Even though he only stays here intermittently, it’s nice. There’s a dresser where he stores some of his clothes. There’s a photograph on top of it; a witch and an android grinning at the camera with two laughing toddlers in their arms. There’s a _Flash_ poster on the wall. The floor is a little worn from repeated use by Tommy’s feet, especially near the door, and in the draw next to his bed there are a few random belongings; phone repair tools, some snacks for when he can’t be bothered running to the kitchen, a small fidget cube that helps him focus during difficult periods…

It’s kind of a weird thought, but this is home, somewhere he can make personal without feeling guilty, and so different from the bleak walls of the Bishop Publishing warehouse, or the homeless shelters he used to jump between before his brief stint with the Kaplans. Even then, there was an underlying feeling of imposition as much as he _knew_ he was probably projecting.

Tommy flops down onto the bed, arms and legs splayed out over each side, and stares through the darkness at the ceiling.

_I’m the Scarlet Witch_.

It’s a stupid thought. He knows that, but at the same time, it doesn’t feel that way. It feels natural. Just like this room, it feels like home. 

And it’s always…present tense, whenever he thinks it. He can’t even remember when it started, but by now, it’s reaching the point of obsession. He can barely focus on anything else.

Taking the cube out of its draw, he randomly clicks the buttons for a few minutes and starts twisting the dial with his other hand. 

He’s glad he talked to Wanda. Half-an-hour-ago-Tommy knew what he was doing when he brought them here, but even so, he can’t let go of the feeling that she’s unhappy with him…somehow.

Still, she has a way of helping him get his thoughts in order. Speaking with her always makes him feel better, and it’s never frustrating the way it is with most people. What she said about the Scarlet Witch’s history…that’s surprising. It’s never even occurred to him that Wanda may not have been the first. 

And she just…knew? The same way he does? Well, in her case it probably didn’t feel like she was stepping on anyone’s toes. Tommy certainly can’t imagine her doubting her own worthiness. As far as he’s concerned, she is the single most worthy person in the world; brave and insightful and intelligent and kind, able to do no wrong. 

He has no idea what he’s getting himself into, he’ll be the first to admit it, but he feels more sure of himself than he has in a long time. This is something that he needs to do. More than that, it’s something that he _wants_ to do. Not just for Wanda, but for himself. 

Damn him if he doesn’t feel exhausted, though. Tossing the cube across the room somewhere, Tommy rolls over, awkwardly kicking down the blanket and pulling it up to his shoulders. 

 

* * *

 

 

Wanda is leaning against her kitchen bench, phone to her ear, when Tommy comes to greet her the following morning.

His white hair is damp from him just being in the shower, and he’s wearing a pair of jeans and a large red hoodie. He opens his mouth to speak, quickly stopping himself once he notices the phone, but Wanda shakes her head and turns it off, receiving no answer. “Good morning, Tommy,” she says. “How did you sleep?”

Tommy blinks at the question. He’s not really—he’s still not used to being asked that. “Good—yeah, just—really good, I think. How, how did you sleep?”

“Fine. Thank you. Do you want some coffee?” she asks; Tommy responds by getting out a cup.

“Who’re you trying to call?” he asks, picking up the coffee pot and pouring some for himself.

Wanda pulls a face. Honestly, if Agatha really is living it up at nudist beaches it’s probably for the best that she can’t reach her. She does deserve some time off, although Wanda has come to appreciate her counsel on issues such as these. “My former mentor, Agatha Harkness,” she explains, picking her own cup off the counter and taking a long sip. “I met her not long after joining the Avengers. I had already been calling myself the Scarlet Witch for some time, but she sensed my desire to learn proper witchcraft and took it upon herself to train me. She’s an incredibly experienced witch…and a very dear friend. She taught me everything I know about magic.”

“So she’s your Yoda?”

“No, she’s—alright, she’s my Yoda. I ought to tell her you said that,” Wanda says wryly. “…She has unique insight into matters of witchcraft, but she’s spending some time for herself at the moment. She’s just come back from the dead, you see.”

“Oh, yeah, I know how that is,” Tommy says, waving his hand. “Happens to the best of us. How’d she die?”

Wanda cringes at the memory. “I killed her,” she says, deadpan. “When I regained the memories she suppressed of you and Billy.”

The mouthful of coffee Tommy just sipped spills ungracefully back into his cup. “Oh. That sucks.”

Neither of them speaks for another few moments.

“Listen,” Wanda says at last, looking at him seriously, “…I don’t want to say I was too hasty in giving you an answer last night, but before you entertain this notion any further, you have to understand that all magic comes at a cost. The Scarlet Witch is and will always be a part of me. It has brought me…unimaginable joy…” She looks at him while she says it. “…but it has brought so much suffering, too, to myself and to the people around me.”

Destroying the Avengers, rewriting the world, the mutant decimation…that was all her, she knows it was; she can’t blame her magic or her title, but those events are forever going to be connected to it. Those are her burdens to bear, and no matter how much time passes, they will never truly disappear; in a way, she doesn’t _want_ to see her children associated with her, and the things that the Scarlet Witch represents.

More than that, though…it was not so long ago that she was feeling her life force whittle away from her own excessive use of magic. The thought of such a thing happening to either of her sons…

That was an unusual circumstance, though. That sacrifice was necessary to save her Goddess, but it will not be so for Tommy.

Tommy stiffened when it sounded like Wanda was about to go back on her promise to teach him, but at this, he relaxes. “I don’t care,” he says, and then quickly adds, “I mean, I care about what happened to _you_ , obviously, but I’ve already made up my mind. I want to do this.” He hesitates then, only for a moment—one so short that he doubts any but another speedster would have even noticed. “I want to be like you.”

Wanda is touched. 

“That cannot be your only reason,” she tells him then, her tone soft but serious. “Tommy, my name carries certain connotations. We witches are hated and feared by many who do not understand us. This is a role I gladly accept, but if you take it on without understanding that, it will bring you nothing but loneliness, and frankly, I doubt I’ll be able to bear it.”

Tommy puts his coffee down. “Mom, I’m _already_ hated and feared by people that don’t understand me,” he says, his voice rising in pitch just a little. “And a few that do, probably.” He pauses again. “You’re not my only reason. I think I’d feel this way even if I’d never met you, and knowing me I’d have probably screwed it up royally by now. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’ve always loved being Speed.” There’s a fondness to his voice as he says the name. When he continues, his face is alight and animated. “I still do. It’s _me_ , but it just doesn’t feel like _enough_ anymore, you know? Like there’s a bit of me that’s always been there that I’ve been pretending hasn’t been. I think I’ve finally found that part, and it’s not making explosions or running really fast. I don’t really get what _it_ is yet, but I want to learn. I want you to teach me so I can _know_.”

If he felt a little embarrassed when he was saying it, that feeling disappears when he registers the look on Wanda’s face. She clasps her hands together, and the look is hard to read, perhaps a little apprehensive, but there is no room to interpret it as unhappy. “Then perhaps we should get started.”

* * *

 

 

Wanda asks him to watch while she makes a circle on the floor, sprinkling salt to define its boundaries and placing an unlit candle at each of the cardinal points. Tommy, for his part, feels kind of useless while she does so, occasionally piping in with a random question as she gets set up, placing small stones in between the candles.

“Do you always need the circle?”

“No, not always, but it will help your focus.”

“Okay. Should I be asking stuff or am I disrupting the energy flow or something?”

“Of course you can ask questions, Tommy. We haven’t started yet.”

“Right, okay. And what are we actually gonna do?”

Wanda carefully takes his hand, and the two of them sit cross-legged inside the circle, facing one another with their knees touching. “Just a simple calming spell,” she tells him.

“Oh. I thought we’d be starting with demon-summoning,” Tommy says, glancing down at the circle while Wanda closes it with salt.

“I’m afraid demon-summoning is a Day Two spell,” Wanda replies, her voice quieter than before, softer. “We’ll work up to it.”

“Good to know.” Tommy smiles to himself, feeling the instinctive urge to lower his voice as well. “…If it’s just a calming spell, how can I tell if it’s worked?”

“I think you’ll know.”

Tommy trusts her judgement, but…to be honest, he doesn’t feel all that different now, and he has no idea how to proceed. “Do I need, you know, a chant?”

“If you like,” Wanda says. “I don’t use them much in my own spells, but you might find one helpful. There are no rules here. Magic is everywhere in nature, in all things; all you have to do is draw it out. Let your body become a conduit…how you get there isn’t nearly as important as where you finish.”

“Well that’s frustratingly vague.” Tommy exhales, realising as he does so that he was holding his breath. “Okay, I guess I’m ready.”

“Very good.”

Wanda extends her hands, taking his and linking their fingers together delicately. Tommy is dimly aware of the four candles suddenly flickering to life, but for the life of him, he cannot break Wanda’s gaze. “Don’t be afraid of failure,” she says. “I will guide you along, but don’t force it. You’re very safe here, just…focus yourself on what you’d like to do. Calm your breathing, try and empty your thoughts. I know it might be hard to do with your powers…”

“…Honestly…” Tommy murmurs, eyes closed, “…I can barely notice them.”

He realises as he says it that it’s true. 

There are days when every moment of his life feels like an agonising challenge in patience. A minute feels like an hour. Waiting for toast to pop is an anguishing experience. Waiting for someone to finish speaking? Sometimes, it’s hard not to just grab them and start shaking. Right now, though…he feels at peace, like he’s suddenly back in sync with the rest of the world. It’s not like it was at juvie, either, where his powers were suppressed with drugs or tech and time still felt like it was moving fast but he could no longer keep up with it. No, this is…it’s almost like how he remembers feeling before his powers appeared. Totally normal…a breath of fresh air…

Tommy exhales softly, and where his skin is touching Wanda’s, it feels warm, electrified. He doesn’t know what he was expecting…maybe to feel a little relaxed, sure, maybe akin to meditation, but certainly not supernatural. This is more, though. He can’t describe it, but there’s something dare he say _magickal_ , something in the way the candles flicker within the circle, something deep inside himself. He can’t describe it, but it’s tangible, and it’s real.

The room is quiet. Tommy can hear Wanda’s breathing and his own. He tries to think about what she said. _Let your body become a conduit._ Whatever that’s supposed to mean. _Focus on what you’d like to do._ Well that, at least, he thinks he can probably do.

_I’m calm. I’m at peace. I’m okay_. 

There’s a very real chance that Tommy is saying the words out loud, but he doesn’t know and he doesn’t care. It’s just him. 

He can feel the electrifying sensation everywhere in his body now; it’s an odd mix of soothing and rejuvenating, like he could go to sleep but also like he has the focus to write an essay or run a marathon or read a book without getting distracted. 

_I’m calm. I’m okay._

He definitely feels calmer now, but maybe it’s not him. Maybe this is Wanda’s doing, the spell she’s doing to help him along. Letting his breathing continue, Tommy carefully let’s go of her hands, distancing their connection, and as he does so he realises that he’s smiling. There might even be laughter. No…this is all him. Is that what Wanda meant when she said he’d know? It almost doesn’t feel like _calm_. It feels like euphoria.

But then, for somebody like him, it’s surprisingly hard to tell the difference. 

And just like that, Tommy breaks himself from his trance.

“…demon-summoning is a Day Two spell,” Wanda is saying.

Grinning boyishly, Tommy seizes her hands again, causing her to drop the salt packet she was holding. “Mom, it worked, I did it,” he gushes, before he even has a chance to process what she said.

Wanda starts, surprised. “What worked?”

“The calming spell! I mean, I think it worked. I don’t have much frame of reference but—I feel really good—don’t you?”

“Tommy, we haven’t started the spell yet.”

Tommy stills, looking at the circle again. 

None of the candles are lit, and their wicks are still shiny and smooth, like they’ve _never_ been lit. His calm euphoria briefly turning to disbelief, Tommy picks up the closest one, inspecting it as though this is some kind of elaborate prank.

“Huh.”

Regaining her composure, Wanda looks at him with unveiled interest. “What happened? What did you see?”

Tommy puts down the candle and picks up the next one. “I don’t understand, we just did this. The candles were lit, you were talking about, like, becoming a conduit or something…” Right now, the effects of the spell are still strong enough that his composure doesn’t give way to frustration, but he’s definitely confused, and it annoys him. 

“That’s what I was planning to tell you,” Wanda says then, carefully taking the candle from him and setting it back in place. “I believe you, Tommy. What else do you remember?”

“Just…we started, I was getting really relaxed. You were there…um, you said I’d know when it had worked, and I thought it did, so I tried to tell you.” 

Wanda considers his words carefully. “How much time would you say passed?”

Tommy doesn’t know. His perception of time isn’t exactly the best thing to go on in matters like these. “Maybe…a few minutes?” He hesitates. “What just happened?”

“I don’t have the faintest idea.” Wanda is thoughtful, and she looks down at the circle as well, as though it somehow holds the answer. “You say the spell worked?”

There’s a kind of dreamy look on Tommy’s face when he replies. “Mom, I’m—”

He cuts himself off. His powers coupled with the ADHD don’t exactly make for a relaxing experience, a lot of the time, but right now he just feels…peaceful. Calm inside his own mind. Yes, he thinks the spell worked. “—I feel amazing,” he finishes sincerely.

Wanda’s gaze softens. She was hoping as much. It’s not often that she sees Tommy so at ease; it makes her happy. “Then I suppose there’s no need for us to continue here,” she says, gathering up the candles and the stones. Tommy goes to fetch the dustpan, and Wanda watches him go with a loving expression. He doesn’t zip off this time, just goes at the pace of a normal person. 

She is confused, of course. They both are, but whatever just happened will have to wait a while. When Tommy comes back to sweep up the salt, Wanda reaches out to touch his wrist.

He looks up, and their eyes meet. She gives him a small smile, and he returns it; no words are necessary.

Whatever else happened, Tommy just completed his first spell. It’s a start.


	2. Chapter Two

”Watch your left, Speed,” Billy yells, diving in between Tommy and the giant monster they’re fighting, throwing up a forcefield just as it strikes down with one large, clawed hand.

“I’m _watching_ it, oh my god,” Tommy responds, sounding put-upon. “I had loads of time.” 

“Are you two going to keep bickering or are we actually going to fight this thing?” Teddy calls from his position near the monster’s leg, gripping it tightly to prevent it from continuing its rampage through the middle of lower Manhattan.

“I can multitask! Can you?” Tommy ducks around Billy’s barrier. The monster, which was about to take a swing at Teddy, immediately turns its attention to the small green and silver blur that is now tormenting it, darting from place to place before it can get a focus. Letting out a frustrated roar, it swats at him angrily, Tommy dodging easily as its hand crashes down upon where he’d been standing moments earlier. There’s the sound of cracking bitumen as it dents the road. 

“Just keep it distracted, Tommy!” Billy is hovering now, out the claws' reach. His cape fans behind him in the most pretentious display Tommy has ever seen, and crackling balls of blue energy form around each of his hands. “ _Backwhenceyoucamebackwhenceyoucamebackwhenceyoucame_ …”

Tommy could probably have just vaporised the thing, but…he doesn’t do that anymore. Much better to let Billy do it so they can pretend the mean nasty monster gets to go home and never bother anyone again so they can take the moral high-ground. He sure does love the moral high-ground.

He covers his mouth and pretends to yawn when the monster finally vanishes. “Thanks for finishing while I still got my youthful good looks,” he says wryly as Billy reaches the ground again.

“Shut up, Tommy,” Billy replies affectionately, quickly going to help Teddy, who’s fallen onto his back. Tommy stretches while they embrace, before going over to make it a group hug just as they’re breaking apart, jumping and throwing an arm around each of their shoulders.

“This was fun. We should do this more often,” Tommy says. “There aren’t any more giant monsters anywhere in New York we can tackle? No?”

“I don’t know about giant monsters, but there’s some leftover pizza at home once we’ve cleaned this up,” Teddy says. “You in?”

“Am I ever. I’m starving.” Tommy lets go of Billy and Teddy to survey the damage. There’s the broken part of the road where the monster tried to attack him, and some more further up the road from before they arrived, but overall it’s pretty tame by New York standards. And damn if that sentence isn’t the epitome of warped perception. 

Billy goes to fix the road while Teddy straightens up an overturned car and Tommy runs about, collecting some of the broken rubble, and surprisingly, he’s more content than he’s felt in a while. 

He won’t pretend he doesn’t miss his friends. Kate’s off in Los Angeles, Cassie’s in Florida, Eli’s in Arizona, Jonas is still _dead_. Even the others…Noh-Varr’s in space or something, and David and America—wait, where the hell _are_ David and America? Didn’t David say he was going to college? What happened with that?

It’s kind of bittersweet. The time he spent on that team…those are still the best years of his life. What was it Billy called them? _Seven superpowered Avengers fans who came together because the Avengers themselves had fallen apart_. Things were so simple, and sure, they weren’t always perfect, but they had each other, for better or for worse. It doesn’t get any better than that. 

Doing this, though…team or no team, just getting to hang out with Billy and Teddy again is nice. It’s _fun_. Not the monster thing, of course, that could have been anything, but if it takes a monster attacking New York to give Tommy an excuse to spend time with his brother, he’s not going to let the opportunity get away from him. 

By the time the three of them have finished doing what they can to clean up, the bystanders have started to creep back into the road, the threat of monsters apparently gone. Tommy’s just wiping his goggles free of sweat and gravel dust when one of them approaches Billy.

“Hey, aren’t you Wiccan?”

Billy looks up, surprised. “Oh, yeah I am, hi there.”

“I’m a huge fan of yours…”

At this, Billy turns the colour of a beetroot, and although he can’t see their faces, both Tommy and Teddy grin quietly to themselves from where they’re working. “Oh, wow, that’s—I mean, thanks.”

“Did you really defeat that monster?”

“Well, I did have help—that’s my brother, Speed, over there. And this is my fiancé, Hulkling.”

Tommy drops his last armful of rubble into the pile he’s making with a snort at Billy’s bashful tone. What a _dork_. He dusts off his hands and wipes his brow with a grimace, zoning out of the conversation. This costume might be good for running in but damn if it isn’t hot as hell when you’ve been shifting broken concrete long enough.

They catch the bus back to Billy and Teddy’s apartment with only mild complaining on Tommy’s part. 

“Listen, bro, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Tommy says when they’re seated, prodding Billy’s thigh across the walkway with his foot. “What’s with your codename?”

Billy and Teddy look at him. “My codename?” Billy asks.

“Yeah. Seems kind of weird, no offence. Like, you’re not actually a Wiccan, are you? And you wouldn’t call yourself ‘Jewish’.”

At this, Billy sighs. “Yeah, I know. I didn’t really think about it when I first decided to go with it and it’s just kind of hard to make anything else stick now, you know?”

Tommy looks down for a moment, but recovers before either of them has a chance to notice. “Eh, just tell it like it is. People’ll get used to it.”

He hasn’t told anyone else about the lessons he’s been having with Wanda. He sure as _hell_ hasn’t told them that he’s picking up her codename. It’d probably just make things confusing. Better to wait until he’s got a better handle on his spells before he has to have that particular conversation. 

That’s been going okay, too. They haven’t had any more…weird incidents, like that first time, nor are they any closer to figuring out how it happened, but Tommy can at least say with relative confidence that his magic is improving. They’re still on basics, of course—spells for protection, or luck, or good fortune. Wanda even had him doing a counter-spell the other day, to reverse one that she cast. 

Tommy has never been a great learner. He has trouble listening, he has trouble focusing, and those problems won’t go away with all the calming spells in the world, but Wanda is a patient teacher. There are times when Tommy can sense her frustration—something she has trouble explaining, or he understanding—but she never lashes out or expresses displeasure. Their sessions together are always the best part of Tommy’s day.

Once they get to the apartment block, Tommy zips on ahead, keen to change out of his costume, but his plans are cut short once he bursts through the front door to discover there’s already somebody inside.

“You’re a weird-looking burglar,” Kate Bishop says, folding her hands behind her head as she stretches out on the couch.

And just like that, Tommy’s train of thought is gone. There’s only now.

“Kate!” He sounds delighted. Feels it, too. When’s the last time he even saw her? It must be months now. Before he can help himself, he dashes over to where she’s starting to get to her feet. He grabs her hand, helping her up the rest of the way and then making a motion of spinning around her that ends with them both tripping back onto the couch with him on the opposite side. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in LA.”

“Came for my sister’s birthday, but I wasn’t going to leave without spending some time with my boys. Hey, there’s the rest of them!” Kate adds, getting to her feet again as Billy and Teddy come through the door. Tommy stays on the couch with a happy expression while Kate goes to hug them, Teddy actually lifting her off the ground in the process. 

“I’m so glad you made it, Kate,” Billy says once they’ve separated.

“Wait, you knew she was coming?” Tommy asks, sitting up again. 

“I texted him while you were on the bus,” Kate explains, linking her arms with Billy and Teddy’s. “He said it was okay to let myself in.”

“Do you know how long you’re staying?” Teddy asks.

“I don’t know yet. I’ve got some time.”

“Seriously, Kate, it is _so_ good to see you, you have no idea,” Tommy says, standing up. “You should’ve been here an hour ago, there was this giant monster thing.”

“Oh, that…sucks. You don’t say, though. You guys are a mess,” Kate says, amused. Then she adds, “We should do something, the four of us. You want to go out after this or are you all still recovering?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Billy says.

“Hold it,” Tommy interjects. “I mean, _yes_ , of course, but I was promised pizza and I’m not leaving this apartment until I get it.”

The three of them chuckle.

* * *

 

Having Kate around makes everything better. It always has. The first time Tommy ever met her, she stopped him from becoming a murderer; it’s not the sort of thing one forgets. 

They’re seated on the couch in Billy and Teddy’s living room; Tommy has his feet up on the table and they’re sharing a large bowl of chips. He lost his shirt sometime throughout the course of the evening and has about half a dozen glow sticks around his neck in its place. 

Billy and Teddy turned in early, and the apartment is quiet while Tommy and Kate look out over the view of Central Park.

“Billy said you’re not living here,” Kate says, taking a small handful of chips.

“Hm?”

“I don’t know why I assumed you were, you just…all arrived at the same time,” Kate explains. “They’re letting me stay in their spare room while I’m here.”

“Oh—yeah, I used to crash here every couple of nights, but not anymore. It’s a pretty sweet gig, though. One of their New Avengers pals set them up with it. You’ll like it here, although as your friend, I’ve got to warn you that they’re basically the worst people to live with. They’re getting into _cute nickname_ territory. I live in fear that one day I’ll overhear them calling each other Bumblebee and Teddy Bear.” Tommy’s voice is deadpan, but there’s no disguising the affection in his tone.

Kate snorts. “Have you got your own place now?” she asks, turning her gaze from the city view to Tommy. It’s an perfectly innocent question, born of curiosity.

Tommy deliberates, but only for a second. “I’m…living with Wanda, actually,” he admits. He hasn’t even told Billy that, at least not that it’s full-time now. “She’s got an apartment in Upper East Side, would you believe.”

“No kidding?” There’s a little bit of surprise written upon Kate’s face, but not a lot. “That’s…honestly really nice, Tommy. I’m happy for you. How’d it happen?”

“I dunno,” Tommy says honestly. “I just started spending time with her…next thing I knew I had a key and my own room.”

“What’s it like there?”

Smiling, Tommy looks down. It’s perfect. It’s the home he always wanted. “…Fancy,” he admits, turning red. “It’s got a balcony.”

“Ooh, a _balcony_. Very Shakespeare.”

“Right?” Tommy says wryly, both of them smiling. Absentmindedly, he pops one of the glow sticks off his neck, carefully cracking it some more and watching as the fluid gets a little brighter. He doesn’t know why it does that—some chemistry mumbo-jumbo, David probably knows. 

If Tommy didn’t know any better, though, it would kind of look like magic.

“Wanda’s been teaching me…” He pauses, but only for a second. “I’ve been learning to cast spells. I’m gonna be the next Scarlet Witch.”

Kate doesn’t answer immediately. She gives him an odd look, and Tommy’s heart sinks. It’s not the response he was hoping for. He doesn’t know what he was expecting.

“…Wait, what?”

Tommy looks in the other direction. “I know how it sounds, but I really feel like this is something I was meant to do.”

“But you’re…” Kate trails off, confused. “You’re, you know, you’re a speedster Tommy. You’re not a witch.”

“Neither is Billy, technically,” Tommy says, a tad defensive. “No-one’s born knowing witchcraft, you have to learn it, and I’m, you know, learning it. And I’m good at it! …At least, my mom says I am,” he adds, turning redder when he realises how that sounds. “I’ve been getting better.”

“I didn’t realise,” Kate says. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to doubt you. It’s just…I guess it’s hard to imagine anyone but Wanda as the Scarlet Witch.”

“She wasn’t the first,” Tommy says then, picking up another chip and putting it in his mouth. “Her mom came before her, and her grandpa, so I’m not even the first boy.”

“Really? I had no idea.”

“Yeah. It’s been in my family for as long as we’ve been able to trace it back,” Tommy tells her, smiling as he says it. _My family_. “Every person who’s had it, they don’t really choose it, they just _know_. Wanda knew even though she’d never met her mother, and _I_ knew. I think I’ve known for ages, I just didn’t want to admit it.”

“Wow,” Kate breathes. “Have you told Billy this?”

Tommy shakes his head. He _should_ tell Billy, sooner rather than later. It’s his family too; it’d be selfish to keep all of this to himself. It’s just…he _envies_ Billy. In a way, he’s scared that he might feel the same way Tommy does, that Wanda might change her mind and choose to train Billy as her successor instead of him. “No, not yet…”

Maybe that’s not fair to Billy. Tommy loves his brother. He should trust him more.

Kate watches him with a thoughtful expression. It’s evident that there’s a lot on his mind, and while she won’t pretend she understands everything that he’s saying, he’s still her friend. She cares enough to not want to see him isolating himself. “Tell Billy,” she recommends. “He’ll be happy for you, I promise, but the longer you wait the more awkward it’s gonna be.”

“Yeah, I know, I know. You’re right. Just, let me do it, okay?”

“My lips are sealed,” Kate says, making a zipping motion in front of her mouth. She pauses. “So, you’re going to need a new costume, right?”

“A new costume?”

“Well yeah,” Kate says matter-of-factly. “I modelled your first one after Quicksilver’s, but you can’t be the Scarlet Witch if you’re running around in green all the time. You need something more _witchy_. I’m thinking maybe a headband, some gloves, a cape.”

“Oh my god, Kate, I’m not wearing a cape. Do you know how stupid I’ll look when I run?”

“That’s the beauty of it!” Kate teases, nudging him. “Nobody’ll notice because you’re running at super speed.”

“No _capes_.”

Kate snickers. “Let me draw up some designs, but I’m not making any promises, Zippy.”

Tommy huffs, but the sentiment is not lost on him. He settles back into the couch, turning his gaze back to the window. “Thanks, Hawkeye.”

 

* * *

 

When Tommy comes home around midday, he’s surprised to find that they already have a visitor.

Wanda is sitting in her usual chair, and Tommy can see her face from the door when he enters. The person she’s talking to is on the couch, with her back to him, but Tommy can see a head of straight, green hair.

Both Wanda and the girl stop talking when they register his arrival. Curious, Tommy zips forward to the living room, skidding to a halt next to the couch before either can say anything. 

The girl’s appearance takes Tommy by surprise; her skin is pink-red, her eyes white and luminescent, and she’s wearing a green sweater, but he immediately recognises her.

He grins. “Oh, hey! It’s Viv, right? From the Champions?”

Viv pauses, startled by his sudden arrival, but she keeps her composure. “That’s correct,” she says then. Her voice is soft, with a delicate, feminine lilt. She certainly doesn’t sound cold or robotic, but there is also a quality that is not quite human either. “And you are Speed, yes? The Young Avenger?”

“Call me Tommy, everyone else does.” Tommy plonks himself on the couch next to her, although he leaves her some personal space. “So what brings you here? Am I interrupting something?” he asks, looking between Viv and Wanda.

“I was just telling Viv about my time with the Avengers, actually,” Wanda says. “The first time, as there have been several,” she adds. 

“Your mother is a most intriguing storyteller,” Viv tells him. 

“You should hear her talk about the mystical properties of minerals,” Tommy says. “Hey, the Vision is your dad, right? I guess that kind of makes me your brother.”

Viv stills, Wanda sits up a little straighter in her chair, and Tommy pauses, immediately sensing that he’s said something wrong. 

Viv, for her part, glances at her hands. No, she has no reason to think that Tommy knew about Vin. Wanda wouldn’t have told him before he met her; he was just trying to be friendly. To be perfectly honest, ever since she learned about their existence, she has had…some very confusing feelings about William Kaplan and Thomas Shepherd. She doesn’t know how she’s supposed to feel about them…part of her had assumed they would want nothing to do with her. She certainly didn’t expect the first thing she heard upon meeting one of them to be _I’m your brother_.

“Yes, I…suppose that’s true, in a manner of speaking,” Viv says, glancing at Wanda as if for security. “He is your father too, correct?”

“I guess so, once upon a time.” Tommy shuffles his feet now, realising he’s made things awkward. “I’ve never actually met him. Is he, um, nice?”

“He is wonderful,” Viv says softly, uncertain if that will make Tommy…jealous. He doesn’t seem to be; he just raises his eyebrows in curiosity.

“Man, you’re so cool,” Tommy says, then adds, “I’ve kind of been following your team on social media since you started up. I’m a huge fan of what you’ve got going on. You should be proud.”

Viv may not be capable of blushing, but if she were, she would be doing it now. “Thank you.”

“All my friends have been,” Tommy adds. “You should meet my brother and his boyfriend, they’re both huge nerds but you’ll like them.”

“Oh, I see.”

Wanda watches the awkward exchange with a faint smile and a sense of apprehensive relief. She worries about Viv sometimes…and after everything that happened, she feels a sense of responsibility for her, too. It’s good that Tommy got back before she left. She’s glad.

“What’s your deal anyway? You can blast stuff?”

“Well…that is not usually the first thing people think of, but yes. I can also fly and manipulate my density.”

“I once had a friend who could do that. He was a huge nerd, too…come to think about it, I hang out with a lot of nerds. Anyway does that mean you can walk through walls?”

“That’s right.” Feeling a little more relaxed, Viv demonstrates by phasing her hand through the back of the couch. Tommy looks impressed.

“I can do that, too, although the, ah, mechanism’s kind of different. I just vibrate really fast—I’m not gonna do it here since it can get kind of _explosioney_ if I do it wrong.” 

“I am sure my teammates would like to see that,” Viv says. “Perhaps our teams will get together at some point. Ms. Marvel loves meeting other heroes.”

“Oh, you’re not worried we’ll embarrass you in front of your friends?” Tommy grins, nudging her. 

Viv is surprised, but she doesn’t feel uncomfortable. “…No?”

“Well, give it some time.”

Viv’s kind of unusual, Tommy decides, but then, who isn’t? She’s cool. There’s a lot about her he doesn’t know, of course—can’t expect her to spill her life story during their first meeting, after all—but she seems sweet. He likes her. 

When they finally bid farewell, both of them have loosened up a little. Tommy beats her to the door, opening it for her with an exaggerated display of chivalry, and she pauses in the doorway, looking back at him and Wanda. 

“It was…nice to meet you, Tommy,” she says at last, tentatively. 

“You too, Viv.” Tommy leans against the door he’s holding open. “Add me on Snapchat, I’m _therealquicksilver_. I’ll show you around New York sometime, okay?”

“I think…I would like that,” Viv says, while Wanda pulls her into a warm hug.

“Goodbye, my darling,” she says as she pulls back, leaving her hands on Viv’s shoulders for another few seconds as if to look her over one last time.

“Goodbye, Wanda.” Viv holds onto Wanda’s arm for a second before she lets it drop. She gives them a final wave as she turns to go; it isn’t until she reaches the stairs that Wanda finally closes the door.

“She seems nice,” Tommy says.

Wanda sighs. “She’s a lovely girl,” she agrees. 

“I knew who she was from social media, but I didn’t realise you two knew each other.” That shouldn’t be surprising, thinking about it now.

“Not long ago, Viv’s twin brother died in a terrible accident,” Wanda explains, glancing at Tommy. “Irreversible damage. Her mother then manipulated Vision into attacking the Avengers, and she later committed suicide.”

“Oh.” All of a sudden Tommy understands Viv’s tense response to him casually describing himself as her brother. He feels like an asshole. “I had no idea…I should apologise to her.”

“It’s not your fault,” Wanda says, running her hand down her face. “Vision created Viv’s mother using my own brain patterns,” she says, after another moment’s pause. “I gave him permission to do so, of course, but now, I can’t help but wonder how different things would be if I had not, or how much suffering has occurred as a result of that decision. I try to spend time with Viv whenever I can. I…worry about her.”

Tommy hesitates, before bumping his head against her shoulder. “I like her,” he says then, unsure what else he can add. “We should have her around more often.”

“I’m sure she would like that,” Wanda says. “Billy as well. I think you boys will be good for her.”

“Hey, she’s family, right?” Tommy asks, smiling a little. 

Wanda raises her head. “Yes…she is.”

Another moment passes, during which Wanda looks Tommy over properly for the first time since he arrived. “How was last night?” she asks then. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah, it was great. We consumed moderate quantities of alcohol and had a good time while staying safe like responsible adults. Kate’s in town! You remember my friend Kate, right?”

“Yes, I remember her. How lovely.” Wanda sounds pleased. “Where’s she staying?”

“With Billy and Teddy,” Tommy says. “She said she’s gonna help me design a new costume. Um, you know, a red one. She made my last one, actually.”

Wanda looks interested. “Did she?”

“Yeah,” Tommy says. “She thinks I need a cape.”

“Plenty of respectable heroes wear capes,” Wanda says solemnly. 

Tommy groans, eliciting a laugh from Wanda, who touches his elbow. “Come on, why don’t you make us some tea and we can start this afternoon’s session?”

Making the tea doesn’t take long; Tommy comes back into the lounge room a few minutes later with a steaming cup in each hand to find Wanda holding a small pot plant, which she places on the coffee table. The plant itself is all but dead, withered with its remaining leaves limp and dark. “Basil,” Wanda says, noticing him looking as he hands her the tea.

“What’s that for, inner peace?”

“Well, yes,” Wanda says, “but it’s also a key ingredient in some rather delicious pasta dishes. I’m afraid I’ve been neglecting this one for some time.”

Tommy sits down opposite her, sipping his tea. “Are we going to bring it back to life?”

“ _We_ won’t,” Wanda says. “You will. You’ll cast the spell today, and we’ll start seeing it return to life in the next few days. We should have basil pesto by the end of the week.”

“Oh,” Tommy says, sounding disappointed, “So it’s not just gonna spring back to life before our very eyes?”

“Not with this kind of spell, I’m afraid,” Wanda says. “That really only happens in the movies, or if you happen to have chlorokinetic powers.”

“So what you’re saying is I’ll never be able to impress a girl by magicking a flower into existence and handing it to her?”

“Oh, hush,” Wanda says wryly, sipping her tea. “It might not be instantly gratifying, but understanding the flow of magic in nature is tantamount to our craft. The purpose of the spell is not to revive the plant ourselves, but to infuse it with the energies necessary to let nature take its course and restore it to what it once was.”

Tommy nods solemnly, trying to make it clear that he’s taking this seriously. Magic the basil up, then eat the basil. Easy. _Do it for the pasta, Tommy_.

Once they’ve cleared a space, Wanda lets him cast the circle himself, standing back and watching attentively while Tommy carefully positions a ring of stones in the area and places the plant in the centre. He puts candles on the cardinal points, sprinkling salt for purity.

Over the past few weeks, Tommy has come to understand what Wanda meant during their first spell, about having a circle. It isn’t always _necessary_ , as such, but it does create an area of energy in which he can focus his spells more effectively. Often, he’ll start with the calming spell, although he hasn’t experienced any more…temporal events. He’s beginning to feel like he made the first one up.

“Do you know what you have to do?” Wanda asks.

“I think so.”

“Do you think you can do it without my help?”

Tommy nods vaguely, eyes fixed on the plant. “I’m…yeah. I can do it.”

“Would you like me to leave you alone?”

“No…it’s alright, I want you to stay.”

Without another word, Wanda sits on the floor away from the circle, where she can watch but not interfere. She is apprehensive. Tommy has been doing well, but he hasn’t cast a spell without her help before. If he succeeds here it will be an important step along his journey, but if not it might damage his psyche and make it harder to continue. 

His face is screwed up in concentration by the time he finally lights the candles, and Wanda has to force herself not to tell him to relax. Tommy murmurs something under his breath as he holds a match to the first candle, then uses that to light the other three. 

Tommy stops once he puts the first candle back, letting the tension leave his muscles. Moving into a cross-legged position with the plant in front of him, he takes a few deep breaths.

He’s learned to recognise the ebb and flow of the magic in the world around him. He knows its warmth, like a blanket draped across his shoulders. It’s strongest at times like this, within the circle, but it’s always there, ever-present and familiar. He leans into it, feeling the frown leave his face as he does so. He’s a grain of sand on a beach of all living things, insignificant yet part of something incredible, connected to all of nature. How foolish that he’s always so nervous to tell his friends about this; the feeling is nothing short of divine.

The plant is still in front of him, and Tommy can feel it. Its life force is weak, but it's holding on, and just like Tommy has learned to open himself up, he asks the plant to do the same, placing his hands on the bottom of the pot.

Trying to channel the magic through himself and into the little basil bush, Tommy pictures it bursting back into life, its leaves bright and green again. A week is all it’ll take…

He closes his eyes, his breathing rhythmic and quiet. _Come on little guy, do it for me. Just a few days is all you need._

Tommy has decided he doesn’t like to talk during his spells. The sound of his own voice breaks his concentration, but having words can help focus on what he wants. The rhyming isn’t strictly necessary, but it helps too, creating a flow; beyond that, the words themselves are fairly trivial, which is good, because if he ever says them aloud he’s pretty sure he won’t be able to take them seriously. 

Tommy exhales slowly when he feels it’s finally done, the breath long and drawn, and opens his eyes.

“Huh.”

The scent of basil is strong and fresh; Tommy is taken aback, tentatively brushing the tips of his fingers against a single firm, vibrant leaf. The whole plant is green and bushy, and the tips of its stems are even starting to blossom, thick stalks of tiny green clusters with dainty white flowers adorning them here and there. 

Well, _that_ happened. 

Tommy breaks into a smug grin, turning to look at Wanda who is staring at the plant in disbelief. He lifts the pot and holds out to her, as though there’s any chance at all that she hasn’t already seen it. 

“I made it flower,” he says proudly.

Regaining her composure, Wanda approaches the circle. “How did you do that?”

Tommy frowns, withdrawing the plant from her reach like she’s about to confiscate it. “I don’t know, I had my eyes closed. What’d it look like to you?”

Wanda kneels beside him, and after a moment, Tommy carefully hands her the pot. She looks at it with awe. “Exactly how you wanted it to look…springing back to life before our very eyes,” she says, delicately touching one of the flower stalks. “You did it, Tommy.”

Tommy picks off one of the leaves experimentally, grinding it between his fingers. It just smells like normal basil in every way. “Is this possible at all? Using witchcraft?”

“Yes, but the kind of magic needed for that kind of spell is well beyond your skill level, and…” She frowns. “I was in the room, and I can tell you right now that no such spell was performed, by either of us. I would have felt it. No, this was something else…”

Something else. Just like with the calming spell. Is _he_ really the one causing this to happen? Tommy doesn’t see how that’s possible. It’s an outlandish idea.

“What do you think’s happening?” he asks.

Wanda looks at him thoughtfully. “I…don’t know, Tommy. Truly, I’ve never experienced anything like this.”

If only Agatha were here. She might know something. Wanda wonders if Natalya could have helped. Maybe she saw this at some point. 

Wanda has her theories, of course, but none that she’s prepared to give voice just yet. 

“I think we’re done for today,” she says after a moment, moving to help pick up the stones. “Why don’t you go and give that some water?”

 

* * *

 

“I hate food processors,” Tommy says, over the noise of the food processor.

“What else do you hate, rice cookers?” Billy asks, tipping a cup of parmesan cheese into the top to mix with the nuts, garlic and basil leaves that are being slowly— _agonisingly_ —processed.

“How does it even cut anything when it moves this slowly? Aren’t you seeing this?” Tommy says, moving his finger in a circle above the appliance in time with the spinning blade. 

“Now you’re just showing off,” Billy says, amused, as he turns off the machine to scrape down the sides again. “Mom, can you pass me the oil?” he asks, looking over to where Wanda has just added pasta to the water Tommy boiled.

“I’ve got it,” Teddy pipes in, handing a bottle of olive oil to Billy, who starts the machine again and slowly begins adding it. 

Tommy shakes his head with a grimace. Yeah, he’s great at food prep, but actual cooking that requires waiting on stuff? Not so much. He’s pretty much done everything he can do at this point, so he darts over to the other side of the kitchen to stand with Viv, who is reading a recipe for garlic bread on her phone.

The kitchen is a little crowded, sure, but Tommy’s not complaining. It was his own idea to invite the others over for dinner, although he doesn’t actually know whether Viv can eat anything—she doesn’t seem to mind, though. If anything, she’s appears very interested in the cooking process. 

“Is the oven preheated?” she asks him, propping her phone against the toaster before carefully slicing grooves into a large baguette. 

“Yeah, I turned it on just before you got here,” he says, leaning against the counter. “Need a hand?”

“No, thank you. I believe I have this under control.”

“I don’t wanna be rude, but can you eat any of this or are you just being nice and helping out?”

“It’s alright. I am not a robot, but a synthetic person,” Viv explains, starting to spread the garlic butter into the grooves. “My body possesses all the same organs as a human. As such, I am capable of eating, although it isn’t necessary for my survival. I usually do not bother.”

“Hey, your phone’s cracked,” Tommy says suddenly, noticing the screen of Viv’s phone; it has several large cracks on its screen, originating from a shattered section in the bottom corner.

Viv is not bothered by the sudden change of topic. “Oh…yes, it fell out of my pocket during a…bus chase,” she says, pausing. “I do not strictly need a phone, and since it is still useable I haven’t bothered to find a replacement screen.”

“I hope you realise how cool _bus chase_ sounds without context,” Tommy says, picking up the phone and inspecting it. “I can fix that for you; what is this, an iPhone 6? I’ve got some replacement screens in my room.”

Without waiting for her to answer, Tommy disappears, running back to his room to get the tools and spare parts out of his draw. He carries them back out to the dining room table just in time to see Viv poking her head out of the kitchen.

“I used to make these for a living,” Tommy explains, beckoning her over and spreading everything out on the table. “And let me tell you, it’s a crazy useful skill when all your friends are superheroes. Broken phones _all around_. Pays to keep some of the most common parts handy. Or, you know, to not take your phone with you when you’re kicking the Zodiac’s asses, but who even leaves their phone anywhere these days?”

“May I watch?” Viv asks, hovering curiously near his shoulder.

“Oh, are you fixing phones?” Teddy asks with raised eyebrows from the front of the kitchen. “Don’t trust him, he’ll try and charge you money after,” he tells Viv wryly.

“Hey, parts don’t come cheap—but sisters get all repairs for free,” Tommy says, scandalised, before jumping up and putting an arm around Viv’s shoulders. “Don’t listen to him.”

“I can fix the phone too, you know,” Billy interjects, coming out of the kitchen as well. “I don’t even need parts. Give it to me.”

“No!” Tommy snatches the phone away. “You want to be the cooler brother, find your own skills to show off. If you were gonna use magic you should’ve used it to make dinner.”

Billy rolls his eyes.

“Thank you very much, Billy, but I would rather like to see the inside of the phone,” Viv admits. She’s a little embarrassed from all the attention, but it’s not unpleasant, either.

“It’s all good, Viv. We’ll finish up in here,” Billy tells her reassuringly, picking up the abandoned plate of garlic bread so he can take it to the oven. “You two have fun.”

Pleased, Tommy sits down again, moving everything to his side so Viv can see what he’s doing. Normally this would only take him about a second to do, but there’s nothing like having an audience to make you slow down. “Apple uses five point screws to stop other people from getting into their devices, but they’re pretty easy to reverse engineer. Most smartphones are basically the same once you get inside,” he explains cheerfully, taking the tiny screws out of the bottom. 

“You will need this next?” Viv says, handing him the suction cup once he’s done with the screws.

“Yep—you seen it done before?” Tommy asks, sticking the cup to the broken screen.

“No…I have the WikiHow article pulled up.”

Tommy snorts.

 

* * *

 

Kate arrives just in time to help with serving, held up slightly by a family matter but no less welcome for it. The boys are all delighted to see her, and Viv is too. Dinner is a pleasant affair. The basil pesto came out nicely, as did the garlic bread, and it occurs to Wanda as they’re all sitting down that this is the first time since she bought this place that she’s had so many people over at once. 

She sits in between Billy and Viv. Billy and Tommy squabble briefly over the best way to prepare coffee, Teddy asks Viv about her time with the Champions and soon she’s regaling the rest of the table with tales of their recent exploits. Billy, Teddy, Kate and Tommy are all clearly impressed, and it makes Wanda happy to see her so in her element. It’s good that she’s found a place for herself, after everything that happened.

By the time they all retire to the living room, there’s a general air of contentment; Wanda settles down in her usual chair, Billy and Teddy squeeze into the other one and Tommy takes over the sofa, resting his head on Kate’s lap at one end and his feet on Viv’s at the other, although neither girl seems to mind. 

“You haven’t told us about Los Angeles yet, Kate,” Tommy says, looking up at her. “How is it over there?”

“It’s great, yeah,” Kate says. “Took down an evil cult, you know how it is. I haven’t had a home cooked meal in like, months though. I’ve just been living off of noodles, so thanks for dinner. It was great.”

“Home grown basil.” Tommy touches his thumb and index finger together and winks. 

“You have Tommy to thank for that,” Wanda says, a hint of pride in her voice.

Billy looks interested. “Didn’t realise you’d taken up horticulture, Tommy. Are you hiding a herb garden somewhere?” he says, his tone teasing but curious.

“I grew the basil, but why don’t you tell them, Tommy?” Wanda asks, looking at him expectantly.

“Oh, tell me what?” Billy asks.

“Um—” 

Tommy realises two things: one, he still hasn’t told Billy that he’s been learning witchcraft, or even that he’s living here; and two, Wanda doesn’t know this. 

The room suddenly goes quiet. Viv looks up from her phone, and Tommy feels Kate stiffen. Wanda looks surprised. “About the spell you did,” she prompts.

Tommy is still quiet. Billy looks between him and Wanda in confusion. “What spell?”

“You haven’t told him?” Kate asks.

“Am I missing something here?” Billy asks. 

At this point, Wanda has realised what's happened, but there isn’t much to be done now. Tommy sits up slowly, not looking at Billy for a few moments. “Mom’s been teaching me witchcraft,” he explains flatly. “She’s—I’m gonna be the Scarlet Witch.”

He doesn’t sound proud like he did with Kate. He sounds contrite. Billy doesn’t respond at first. He looks around the room like he’s waiting for someone to pull his leg.

“The what?”

And there it is. Not jealousy, not even disbelief, just confusion, ‘cause how could somebody like Tommy ever live up to that kind of legacy, right? Tommy gets to his feet, deliberating what to do next. He doesn’t want to continue this conversation—call him childish, whatever. He zips off in the direction of the balcony. 

Billy is reeling, and he looks around the room, then at Teddy, who seems just as confused as him. 

“I’m sorry, Billy, I assumed he’d already told you,” Wanda says.

Billy kind of wants to wait around for an explanation, but he decides pretty quickly that the only person he wants an explanation from is outside. “I’ll be right back,” he says, getting off of Teddy and running out of the room. Instinctively, Teddy moves to follow him, but Wanda puts a hand out, shaking her head. 

Billy finds Tommy leaning on the balcony railing, overlooking the vast New York City skyline. It’s bright, and vibrant, and it’s beautiful in a way, different from the stars it conceals but awe inspiring in and of itself. Quietly, Billy moves to join his brother, leaning on the railing a few feet away from him and looking at him thoughtfully. 

“Seriously, Tommy…what’s the deal?”

“About the Scarlet Witch thing?”

“Yes! You’ve been learning witchcraft?”

“I have.”

“Well…for how long?”

Tommy shrugs. “…About a month now. I know my powers aren’t, well, yours, but that’s not what witchcraft is either. It’s _incredible_ , Billy. I don’t know how to—” He pauses, making a vague gesture with his clenched fist as he struggles to find the words. “It’s just, whenever I do it I feel like I’ve got my head on straight for the first time in my life. My powers stop feeling like a living hell, and I can—I can do things that aren’t _destructive_. I can…create things, _living_ things, even if it’s just a little basil bush. I feel like this is what I was always meant to be doing.” He sighs. “Please don’t be mad. I can’t deal with that right now.”

Billy is taken aback. 

“I’m…not mad, Tommy. I’m sorry for whatever I did to make you think I would be. I’m happy for you! I’m just…confused. I don’t understand, why couldn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“I don’t know!” Tommy looks at him, strained. “Lots of reasons! I kept thinking it wasn’t going to work out, and when it did I was worried—that you’d be jealous, maybe? I guess I thought, like, you’d wish it was _you_ doing this with Mom instead of me. Or that…you’d think I was closer to her than you were…”

At this, Billy holds Tommy’s gaze, unsure how to answer. 

“Tommy…you _are_ closer to her than I am,” he says at last. The sentence is long and drawn out and carefully considered. He hesitates. “I love her. I’d do anything for her, you know I would, but…” He sighs. “I have an _amazing_ mother. Her name’s Rebecca Kaplan, she used to tuck me in at night, and she’s the most important woman in my life. She always will be, and if you ask me who my mom is, it’s her…it’s always going to be her. Who’s _your_ mom?” 

Tommy thinks about Mary Shepherd, and his chest tightens with sadness. “It’s Wanda,” he says softly.

“See?” Billy looks at him. “And I’m okay with that. It’s how it should be, so if one of us is going to carry on Wanda’s legacy, it should be you. I’m _glad_ it’s you.”

Tommy exhales, turning his gaze out to the city lights. Billy does the same. 

“You mean the world to me, Tommy,” Billy says, causing him to look down. “If this means as much to you as you say it does, then you’re going to be amazing, and I’m proud to have you as my brother.”

Damn him, he’s doing to make him cry. Tommy smiles a little, feeling relieved, contented. Kate was right. He should’ve told him about this sooner.

“You know…you’ve been so much happier lately,” Billy says.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Back when the team was still together, you were always…on edge, like you had something to prove. You didn’t really smile much. These days it’s like you’re more comfortable.”

“How about that.” He doesn’t feel all that different to how he felt at sixteen, but then, does anyone?

Tommy thinks about it, though, and he knows Billy’s right. The child who came out of that cell, so angry and volatile and desperate and afraid…that was him. To pretend he is a different person would be a disservice to how far he’s come. It’s that same child who’s standing here now, content with his life and happy with the people around him. He’s not perfect; Tommy knows he’s still got issues to work through a mile wide, but at least now he feels like he can do it. There’s an end in sight. One day, he might be okay.

“I’m happy you’re my brother,” he says. He doesn’t say it much, but he loves him. “You know that, right?”

Billy puts a hand on his shoulder, standing closer. “I’m happy too.”

“Are we gonna hug now?” Tommy asks. “Am I reading this situation right?”

“Yeah, why not. Come here, you,” Billy says, opening his arms with an amused sort of grin, Tommy rolls his eyes, and the two embrace. 

It lasts a few moments. They pat each other’s backs, and Tommy looks over Billy’s shoulder into Wanda’s apartment. 

He can see the edge of the living room, and even though he can’t see the people inside it, he knows who they are; his mother, whom he didn’t get to meet until later in life but who means everything to him anyway; his best friend in the whole world; his future brother-in-law and friend in his own right; and his kid sister, whom he barely knows, but that might change. 

He hopes it will change. The future is vast and full of opportunities for new things to happen, new paths to take, new relationships to form. People find family, people find love, in the world around them. It isn’t something you start out with; you have to work hard, but it’s worth it, and if you can make it work, you can create something beautiful. 

[](http://ben-wisehart.tumblr.com/post/164929960248/i-commissioned-slwgns-to-draw-the-balcony-scene)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art in this chapter was created by the extremely talented [SlowGenius](http://slwgns.tumblr.com/) and can be found on Tumblr [here](http://slwgns.tumblr.com/post/164930068021/ben-wisehart-i-commissioned-slwgns-to-draw-the), I'd definitely recommend checking them out! If you liked this chapter, please consider leaving a comment!


	3. Chapter Three

“I have a theory regarding the anomalies we’ve been experiencing during your spells,” Wanda says, sitting down on the bench they’re passing in Central Park and gesturing for him to do the same, “but we need to run a test to be sure.”

“Am I going to like this theory?” Tommy asks, joining her, although he sits on the edge of the seat, bouncing his foot. 

“It’s very cool if I’m right. You’ll like it,” Wanda promises, reaching into her pocket and withdrawing two small objects. Tommy recognises a stopwatch when she hands one to him.

He looks at it with a frown. “Do you think I’m the one causing them?” he asks, after a brief pause. 

“I do,” Wanda says.

Tommy turns the stopwatch over in his hands, fiddling with it absentmindedly. It’s not like he hasn’t noticed that he’s the common denominator between both events. It’s just…he’s performed dozens of spells without such things occurring, and it never feels any different to the ones where they have. He’s no expert on witchcraft, but if his spells are going wrong somehow, he’s sure that he would feel it. “What d’you need me to do?” he asks, closing his hand around the watch.

“The same thing you do every morning,” Wanda explains. “Run somewhere.” She holds up her own stopwatch, showing it to him. “I’ll time you. And since you’ll be going out of range, take the other one with you so you can time yourself.”

Tommy has a vague inkling as to what she’s suggesting, but he doesn’t mention it. “Where should I go?”

“Wherever you like,” Wanda says. “I’ve heard the Niagara Falls are lovely this time of year.”

“Oh, they are. Went there the other day. We should go sometime.”

Wanda chuckles. “Buy me a souvenir while you’re there.”

They line up their stopwatches, hitting the start buttons at the same time, and then Tommy is gone, Wanda’s hair blowing in his wake.

No matter how many times he does it…Tommy will never get used to the feeling he gets when he runs. Not just darting around during menial tasks, but really _runs,_ lets himself go long enough to gather some speed. He feels invincible, unstoppable, _alive_. The whole world is nothing but background noise. 

He’s run this route dozens of times; it feels like second nature to him now. Follow the highways, mostly, pass a few towns on the way to make sure he’s not lost. When he skids to a halt on a viewing platform overlooking the falls—scaring the life out of some tourists in the process—his hair is blown back and wild, a giant grin on his face. He checks the stopwatch. Five minutes have passed. 

Come to think about it, he’s not sure why he didn’t think of carrying one of these sooner.

It takes another few seconds to find a gift shop, on the Canadian side of the border. He selects a small keyring for Wanda, and by the time he’s finished waiting in line, the stopwatch reads just over six minutes.

From there, it’s a homeward stretch. He grinds to a stop back in Central Park next to Wanda just as his timer hits ten minutes. 

Barely panting, Tommy thrusts the keyring into her hand. “Ten minutes,” he says, proudly holding up the watch and stopping the timer. “And those things are four hundred miles away. _And_ at least a minute of that was waiting in line at the gift shop.”

Wanda takes the stopwatch from Tommy with interest, holding the keyring in her other hand. “Tommy,” she says slowly, handing him her own timer, “you should look at this.”

Tommy takes it.

_00:01:08:12_

_One minute, eight seconds_.

Eight seconds minus the time at the gift shop. 

Tommy snatches his own back, holding the two together. “You didn’t stop this until I got back?” 

Wanda shakes her head. “There’s nearly nine minutes’ difference.”

“I don’t understand.” Tommy sits next to her again.

“Just how fast are you, do you know?” Wanda asks. “Your top speed.”

“When I was in juvie they clocked it at Mach 6,” he says. 

“Pietro is _much_ faster than that, but I’ve seen you run together and you wouldn’t know it from watching. You just ran eight hundred miles in eight seconds, and you weren’t even under pressure,” Wanda says. “That’s _hundreds_ of times faster than the speed of sound.”

“But it didn’t _feel_ like eight seconds to me,” Tommy insists. “It felt like ten minutes. Like this says.” He holds up his stopwatch.

“Because for you, it was,” Wanda tells him. “That distance in nine minutes is…Mach 7, possibly, but nothing close to how fast you were actually moving. Tommy, what you’re doing is manipulating time in a localised area. You don’t even realise you’re doing it. That’s what happened with the plant; you cast the spell to restore its life, and then you sped up time around it to restore its life _immediately_. During the calming spell, you actually _reversed_ time.”

“Holy shit,” Tommy says.

He tries to go back, think about what he was doing during those two spells. The first time, he was so overwhelmed by how nice it was that his powers weren’t making everything seem slow and his perception of time had returned to normal, that he’d…taken it to the other extreme. With the plant, he’d been thinking about how it only needed a couple of days. And then he’d given it a couple of days. In the span of a couple of seconds.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he says, his head falling into his hands. She’s right, he’s the one doing this. What’s more, he’s already been doing it for years and he hasn’t even _noticed_. “Oh man, that’s disappointing. So I’m not even that fast?”

“You’re very fast,” Wanda assures him. “But Tommy…the implications of this are enormous. Witchcraft might have helped you develop these abilities the way it has with mine, but these are your own powers, and warping time is…not a minor superpower. With enough practice it might place you on a par with your brother.”

Despite her earlier levity, as she says it, Wanda is gripped with fear. Having that much power can be a curse as much as anything else. Her own have driven her mad, have made her a target of both fear and distrust, and have placed far more burdens and responsibilities onto her shoulders than she could ever want for one of her children, let alone two. 

She didn’t want this for him.

Tommy is looking up at her with a mixture of confusion, trepidation, perhaps awe…acceptance. And trust. Wanda knows he values her judgement, and she doesn’t want to make him afraid unnecessarily, especially considering it might all come to nothing. Tommy is not her. He will not make her mistakes. 

“So…what should I do?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” Wanda admits. “You’ve made it this far without going mad from power, though. If we’re right, there’s nobody I’d trust this with more than you.”

Tommy seems reassured by her response.

“If learning witchcraft _is_ helping you control it, then I believe we should continue as we are,” Wanda says, after a moment. “Do you want that?”

“Yeah, of course.”

What they need to do is find out the extent of his abilities in a safe environment before there is any opportunity for an accident. Not that she thinks there will be an accident.

“How do you feel right now?” she asks.

“Dunno. The same as I normally do,” Tommy says, looking down thoughtfully. “It’s just not something I’ve ever really thought about, you know?”

“I understand,” Wanda says, reaching for his hand. He leans against against her side, not really acknowledging it but staring off into the distance while he puts his head on her shoulder. “Whatever the case, you’re you…and I will be with you every step of the way.”

“I know,” Tommy says quietly. 

 

* * *

 

 

“So we were all basically a bunch of kids, had _no_ idea what we were doing,” Billy is saying, gesturing animatedly. “Not really much of a mission statement at first, we just knew some evil time-travelling dictator was about to show up and the Avengers weren’t around to stop him, so we had to do it ourselves…looking back on it now, I’m amazed it worked out as well as it did.”

“Your team became what was needed at the time it was formed,” Viv says, hands in the pockets of her sweater. “I believe it is the same with mine. The world is constantly changing. It has changed since then. When the Young Avengers formed, villains were rife and there were not enough superheroes. Now, there are many of them and some are drunk on power.”

“…Yeah,” Billy says. “We’ve already lived through two superhero civil wars. I kind of miss when it was just…stopping some bad guys, helping people, trying to make the world a better place. That’s what I grew up in; there was the occasional world-ending disaster but you always felt like the superheroes had your back. I wanted to be like them so badly.”

“You sound old,” Tommy says, materialising in front of them as he returns from the snack bar with his popcorn refill. Honestly, Tommy is the only person Billy knows who refills his popcorn _after_ the movie. “Let’s talk about happy things, like which Power Ranger is the hottest. Viv: discuss,” he says, sandwiching himself between the two of them on the seat beside the ticket booths.

Viv considers this. “Trini, but objective beauty does not exist.”

“Leaning toward Jason,” Billy says.

“Have either of you seen Zack? Come on.” Tommy shoves a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Anyways, I’ve done enough sitting in one place for today. You guys wanna get out of here?”

They leave the cinema together, Tommy zipping ahead of Billy and Viv, and they start back toward the bus stop. The path takes them down by the Hudson River. It’s a Saturday, and there are a few people around. Tommy notices a couple of heads turn to follow Viv, and he shoots their owners a glare.

The _Magnum P.I._ theme starts playing.

“That’s not my—oh, it’s Teddy,” Billy says, looking at his phone. “You guys mind if I take this?”

“No, we are not in a hurry,” Viv says, and Billy smiles appreciatively, walking over to the railing overlooking the water to take the call.

“Well, that’s the last we’ll hear from him for the next hour,” Tommy says, sitting down on a nearby bench and balancing the popcorn on his knee. Viv joins him a moment later. “How’d you like the movie?”

“It was entertaining,” Viv says.

They stay silent for another few moments.

“I had fun today, Tommy.” Viv looks down as she says it. “You and Billy are very kind.”

“Hey, I had fun too,” Tommy says, before she can do anything rash like think they were _only_ doing it to be kind. He knows what thinkings that way is like, and it sucks. “What’s family for?”

Viv is quiet, and Tommy hesitates.

“Wanda told me what happened to your brother, and your mom,” he says, after a moment. “I’m sorry. It must’ve been awful for you.”

Viv sighs. It’s an odd gesture; she doesn’t strictly need to breathe, but sometimes there is an emotion that cannot be properly expressed any other way. She feels it now.

Tommy puts a hand on her shoulder. “Hey Viv…I’m not gonna insult you by pretending to know what you’re going through. I have a twin and like, frankly, I dunno what I’d do if anything happened to him.” He looks over at Billy’s back, still leaning on the railing while he talks to Teddy.

“I cannot help but wonder why it is me that’s still here, and not Vin.”

“Things like that…they don’t always have a reason. They just hurt.”

“My mother sought vengeance for Vin’s death, and then she killed herself to protect me and my father,” Viv says quietly. “But I did not want vengeance. I wanted her.”

She thinks about Virginia, and how the last words she said to her were said in anger.

Tommy thinks about Wanda, and how she forced Vision to attack the Avengers, too. She killed four people, countless more suffered, all because of him and Billy. 

“Grief makes people do things…” Tommy says at last. “They’re not always rational.”

“I know.” Viv looks down again, staring at her hands, and Tommy’s hand suddenly slips through her shoulder as she becomes intangible.

Tommy watches her for a moment, wishes that there’s something more he can do.

“I’m not trying to replace your brother,” he says then. “Neither of us are. You know that, right?”

At this, Viv looks up at him, thoughtful. “I…know.”

“But we do care about you.”

She looks down again.

“So just…you do whatever you’ve gotta do, but know that you don’t have to do it alone. If you need something, we’re here for you.”

“Thank you, Tommy.”

He offers her a smile. And then, after a moment, he tentatively asks, “…What was Vin like?”

“He was…” Viv trails off, smiling sadly. “…Funny,” she finishes. “He would tease and joke a lot, although people did not always realise. I used to find it frustrating sometimes. He loved Shakespeare, and he enjoyed sports. He would train Sparky to do tricks…” 

“He sounds pretty great.”

“He was.”

Viv lifts her head, looking out over the river. 

She misses him every day. 

She doesn’t understand why he is gone, not really, and she doesn’t understand why her mother is gone, either. All it seems to show is that the world is cruel. 

Tommy doesn’t get it either. It’s not fair for someone so young to have suffered to much. He just knows he wants to help her, in any way he can. 

Billy returns a few minutes later, putting his phone back into his pocket. “Sorry about that. Thanks for waiting, guys.”

“It is alright,” Viv says. “…I believe I should start heading home. It will take me a while to get back to D.C.”

“Do you need a lift?” Billy asks. “I can teleport.”

“Well, aren’t you special,” Tommy says, nudging him with his foot. “Let me take you, Viv, I can _run_ faster than he can teleport.”

“Thank you both,” Viv says, getting up from the bench, “but I would prefer to go home normally. There are…some places I would like to stop on the way, and I would not want to inconvenience you.”

“Are you sure?” Billy asks, concerned. She’s a little more subdued than when he left her. He knows that wherever Viv might want to go would not be an inconvenience, but he does take the hint. 

“Yes.” Viv pauses, before moving to give each of them a hug. “Thank you…I would very much like to do this again.”

“You got it,” Billy says gently, waving as she starts to float upwards. “See you around, Viv!”

Tommy stands up to join him. “Yeah, take care, girly!”

He watches her go with a thoughtful expression. 

There’s nothing he can do about her mother, or her brother, and he’s not sure what he can do for her now. In a way, he wishes he met her sooner. He had another little brother once, and he never even knew until it was too late. 

“Hey, Tommy, did you…hear about what happened to her?” Billy asks, looking at him, once she is off in the distance.

“Yeah,” Tommy says. 

“I can’t even imagine.”

“No.” 

They turn to go.

“I kind of feel like she’s our responsibility,” Billy says.

“Me too. She’s nice too though, you know?”

“Yeah.”

And then the explosion happens.

Tommy is the first to react; he grabs Billy, yanking him out of range before going back to grab a young couple who were standing closer to where the blast came from. It was further down the street by the river, and while the blast is relatively small and contained, it blows out enough dust and debris to cloud its source. 

Billy has recovered by now, he straightens up, running to Tommy’s side. “You get the bystanders, I’ll see what it is.”

“Got ‘em covered,” Tommy says, and he’s gone, zipping ahead to grab the rest of the people who were nearby and carry them further away in case of any confrontation. A couple more pedestrians, a traffic cop—once the nearest cars start slamming to a halt he gets their drivers too for good measure. He’s just running back to join Billy when the dust clears enough to see what the source was. 

It’s a man, maybe an Inhuman or a mutant or some other powered individual. He’s wearing a mask over his face, and a jacket over a white shirt and trousers. Billy has him bound with his powers, and he’s struggling angrily. Just as Tommy arrives, he unleashes a large shockwave, throwing both him and Billy backwards with the force of it. The blast weakens Billy’s concentration just enough for him to take off again, making a run to get past them. 

“Oh, no you don’t,” Tommy says, jumping back to his feet. He catches him easily, knocking him to the ground; he’s the same height as Tommy, but much leaner and ganglier. 

That’s when they hear a siren, from the direction the man was coming from. Tommy looks up. Billy was running to join them but he stops too as an armoured prison van arrives, followed by two more police cars. 

“Friends of yours?” Tommy asks lightly, getting off the guy while Billy casts another spell to keep him restrained, this time more carefully. 

Two cops jump out of the two cars, guns pointed at the man on the ground—which, okay, that’s pretty excessive. Tommy doesn’t move from where he’s standing, and neither does Billy when a third man gets out of the van, holding a large pair of handcuffs while he lifts up a walkie-talkie to his mouth. “Prisoner is secure, two hero-types have him.”

“You wanna tell us what the hell’s going on here?” Billy asks, sounding unimpressed. 

“This young man escaped from lock-up just this morning. He’s highly dangerous, you two’ve done a great service.”

“You don’t goddamn say,” Tommy says, stepping out of the way while the guy moves past him to secure the man with the handcuffs. They’re fitted with some kind of tech; it must be to prevent him from using his powers. Barely thinking about it, Tommy touches his own wrist, suddenly uncomfortable.

He tries to push it down while the man is hefted to his feet and led back to the prison van, pulling the jacket off him in the process to reveal the white prison scrubs underneath. Dude was blowing things up, after all. He could’ve killed someone, if Tommy and Billy weren’t there. He’s obviously dangerous, and it’s out of their hands. 

Tommy is about to turn back to Billy, but one of the cops takes the guy’s mask off just as they’re putting him in the back of the vehicle, and he freezes.

The ‘man’ is not a man at all. He’s a boy, no older than fifteen or sixteen. Tommy gets a brief glimpse of his face as he’s shoved into the truck, and he doesn’t look angry, or downtrodden. No, he looks _terrified_. Tommy grabs for Billy’s arm instinctively, steadying himself, before he runs to intercept the driver just as he’s getting back into the van. “Wait, where are you taking him?”

“Back to lock-up.” The man looks at Tommy with a frown. “He’s far too dangerous to be on the streets.”

“But he’s a _kid_ ,” Tommy says.

“That makes it so much worse, wouldn’t you say?”

“Tommy,” Billy says, running up and grabbing him by the shoulder, “what’s the matter?”

“No, I’m—where are you _taking_ him?” he snaps, but the man hefts himself up again into the vehicle, pulling the door shut. The three vehicles drive away, without another word. 

Tommy could run after them. He _could_. He _should_. It’d be so easy, but…he doesn’t. He stays rooted in place, face pale with shock as he stares after the van.

It’s got a New Jersey plate.

“I have to go,” he says, and he bolts.

_Should go after the van, should go after the van_ …He still doesn’t, and Tommy has no idea whether it’s fear or trepidation or nerves, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He doesn’t know where he runs instead; he takes familiar turns at random, then unfamiliar, and then he thinks he’s crossed the river, and then he’s…

He’s back in New Jersey. 

Not near the juvie hall, he can’t make himself to go back there. Not to his old house, either. No, when he comes to a stop, he realises he’s back at his old school. 

It’s been years. They’ve repaired the damage he did, but it no longer feels familiar. It’s a Saturday, and it’s bleak and quiet. 

_The hell are you doing here, Shepherd_. 

He walks slowly to his old classroom. It looks a little different since being rebuilt, but he knows the place. Tommy could have vibrated himself inside, but he doesn’t. Instead, he turns around with his back to the outside wall, and slides to the ground. 

It’s still up and running, exactly how he left it. He should’ve known, really. He wasn’t the only inmate, wasn’t the only one with powers. Why would they stop just because of the one that got away?

He never thought about it at the time, that there were others in the same boat as him. All he ever thought about was wanting to get out…and all the things he was going to do to his jailers when he did. 

It’s not just juvie. It’s not just juvie for kids with powers. The mandroids, the armed guards, the scientists…it’s a high-tech research lab studying how to weaponise powers that uses kids as subjects and calls itself a juvenile detention facility because it sounds nicer to their parents. 

And Tommy should’ve gone back years ago. He should’ve shut it down, exposed it for what it really is, forced the public to think of a better solution for problem super kids…but he didn’t. He’s avoided thinking about it for all this time. Why? Out of fear? Sure, it was fear. Doing that, just thinking about that, would mean acknowledging what happened, and like…he’s never failed to see how thoroughly fucked up it was, but he’s also never _thought_ about it. Being poked and prodded, forced to destroy things and allow his powers to be used to hurt people, stripped of everything that ever made him soft, make him kind. 

Was he ever kind? He has no idea. He’s always been profoundly self-centred. He still is. _That_ is why he never told Billy about Wanda’s lessons; he wanted to have something that was just his, without having to risk sharing Wanda’s attention. That’s why he let the van go instead of trying to get the kid back. He’s selfish. 

Tommy lets out a sob, banging his head against the wall behind him. 

He doesn’t want to think about this right now. He wants this day to be over. 

Tommy glances at the wall behind him. This classroom, this is where it all started, really.

_I’m calm. I’m at peace. I’m okay_.

This is probably always going to be his favourite spell. He feels his breathing level out, and he puts his head in his hands. It’s not working as well as it usually does, but that’s okay. It's enough.

Acknowledging what happened would mean acknowledging that yeah, sometimes, he feels like he deserved it. Maybe that’s fucked up to say, whatever. Sometimes he feels like the only thing he was ever good for was being turned into a weapon. So what. 

He doesn’t _always_ feel that way.

He doesn’t always feel that way; sometimes he feels happy. Sometimes he loves being alive. Fighting a monster with the Young Avengers, watching a movie with his brother and sister, having a cup of tea with Wanda before they practice their spell work…

That kid was just like him, and whatever he did, he does not deserve whatever put that look of terror on his face. The fifteen year old boy who vaporised the building he’s sitting in front of did not deserve it either. 

“I’d better go and get him,” Tommy says. 

His phone gives a long buzz as it receives a string of messages.

Yesterday 3:55pm Billy Kaplan: _Tommy are u ok?_  
Yesterday 3:55pm Billy Kaplan: _What happened back there_  
Yesterday 4:07pm Billy Kaplan: _You don’t have to tell me where you are just let me know that you’ve got this_  
Yesterday 4:28pm Billy Kaplan: _I can’t find you with my powers Tommy please just tell me you’re okay_  
Yesterday 6:09pm _Missed Call - Wanda Maximoff (2)_  
Yesterday 6:23pm _Missed Call - Billy Kaplan (3)_  
Yesterday 6:45pm Kate Bishop: _Are you okay???_  
Yesterday 6:46pm Kate Bishop: _I don’t know if you’re ignoring the others but if you want to talk I’m free_  
Yesterday 6:46pm Kate Bishop: _We’re worried about you_  
Yesterday 11:49pm _Missed Call - Wanda Maximoff_  
Today 5:45am _Missed Call - Wanda Maximoff  
_ Today 6:05am _Missed Call - Billy Kaplan_

“ _Shit_ ,” Tommy says, jumping to his feet and checking the time. It’s currently 9:30 on Sunday morning. He’s been sitting here for _seventeen hours_? 

“When I say I want the day to be over I _don’t_ mean it _literally_ ,” he yells, at nobody in particular, and types a text to Billy. 

_am ok. will talk to u later n explain everything_

He goes to send a message to Wanda, then decides to call, and then decides it’s probably faster to just go straight home. It doesn’t take him long to get back to the apartment and let himself in, but upon closer inspection he finds that the place is empty. 

_Mom I’m okay and at home, it happened again_.

He waits, looking around the room cautiously, and then the door swings open. 

Wanda looks somewhat frazzled; she makes a beeline for him upon entering, and he stands there looking contrite until she gets to him, taking him by the arms. When she talks, she doesn’t sound…okay, she sounds a bit angry, but it’s more like undirected anger. Even so, Tommy jumps. “Please just start talking,” she says, sounding tired.

“It’s only been half an hour for me,” Tommy mumbles. “I was just sitting down thinking about stuff and then the next thing I know it’s been nearly a day.”

Wanda lets out a long sigh, her hands dropping. A part of her was hoping it was something like that. Tommy would never deliberately ignore her calls, not for so long, and it’s better than any of the alternatives.

He takes her arm. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to worry anyone, I just needed to be alone for a while.”

“Billy told me you were missing,” she says, folding her arms and forcing Tommy to let go of her. “Neither of us could locate you with our powers. Your phone appeared to be out of service. We called all your friends, even your parents—”

“Wait, you called my _parents_?” Tommy asks, alarmed.

“—You were completely off the grid, Tommy,” Wanda says. “I was about to contact Doctor Strange.”

“Oh.”

Tommy knows he didn’t disappear on purpose, but he thinks of all the times he was missing from home as a teen, often for more than a full day without his parents so much as calling the police, let alone Earth’s Sorcerer Supreme. He could never have imagined someone worrying about him in such a way, not even Wanda. 

Wanda forces herself to relax. This was about her as much as it was Tommy. She’s already lost him once, in the most horrible way a mother can possibly lose her children; she didn’t even have memories to mourn them with. That moment with Janet by the pool…that dizzying, sickening realisation when she _knew_. When she reached out with her powers and could not find them, as though they never even existed…

She doesn’t ever want to feel that again, but last night, for a tiny moment, she did. Even though she knows—she _knows_ —that what happened to them then cannot happen now. It was far too close.

Sensing her unease, Tommy puts his arms around her, not saying any more. It takes a moment for Wanda to respond, but when she does, she holds him close, kisses the top of his head. When they separate, she tenderly touches his cheek, brushing some hair out of his eyes and holding his face as if to check for injuries. She’s fussing, she knows she is. He’s not a child, but it was only a few years ago that she was holding those two little babies in her arms, so small and so beautiful but so dependent on her too. Tommy would still be a young boy now if they had never been stolen from her.

Wanda worries that she projects sometimes, that she sees too much of her baby in him and not enough of the man he has become. All Tommy worries is that one day he’ll lose her.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” he says again, reaching up to take her hand. 

“It’s in the past,” Wanda replies, giving it a squeeze before letting go. “Have you told your brother you’re alright?”

“Yeah…I’ll call him later to explain what happened.”

“What _did_ happen?” Wanda asks. 

“I told you, I was just kind of sitting by myself and the next thing I knew today was yesterday.”

“I meant before,” Wanda clarifies. “Billy told me you apprehended an escaped convict.”

“Oh.” _Oh_ , indeed. The boy. “Yeah, we did.”

Sensing his apprehension, Wanda sits them both down. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” Tommy says. “The answer to that question’s always ‘not really’. I hate talking about things. I’m basically a walking case study, but hey, I’m nothing if not self-aware, so—” He pauses, taking a deep breath “—I kind of do. Want to talk about it, that is.”

He’s considered this carefully, and he does want to talk about it, just not with anyone but Wanda. 

“He was just a kid. Like, fifteen, _maybe_ sixteen.” _The same age I was_. Tommy pauses. “He was from the same place as me. I’m pretty sure.” _I’m like, positive_.

“How do you know?” Wanda asks, looking at him.

“I dunno, I just do. He had these…explosion powers. They weren’t exactly like mine but they were definitely dangerous. And he was trying to run away from…these guys that were after him.”

He and Billy didn’t even stop to think, they just saw the explosion and leapt into action. They apprehended the kid and let the authorities take him without a second thought. Tommy cannot believe how careless he was. Maybe Viv is right; maybe the heroes of the world are getting used to power.

It all happened so fast—for _him_. He didn’t stop to think. Perhaps he simply didn’t want to.

Wanda doesn’t interrupt, just listens quietly. Tommy stares at his hands. “We saw the blast, ran to help, then these cops showed up with a prison truck. And they just…took him, and I let them. He was so scared—and I _know_ he could’ve hurt somebody. I know, it’s just, when the Young Avengers came and got me out of juvie, _I_ could’ve hurt somebody. I wanted to! I was actively trying to! They’re the _only_ reason I stopped. If I’d’ve escaped on my own, and they hadn’t been there…”

Tommy likes to think he would not have done it, but he knows he would. That boy he saw could’ve been him, but he was given a chance to do better, and he _did_. He owes his friends the world for that.

What hope does the kid have if nobody takes a chance on _him_? Tommy doesn’t even know his name, but he’s his responsibility. So is every other ‘super-powered teenage terrorist’ locked up in there as well. 

Wanda breaks him from his reverie when she takes his hand. 

Having powers that are considered dangerous is a rhetoric with which she is all too familiar. Tommy doesn’t talk often about his time in juvie, but he talks _enough_. She knows what they did to him, and what they tried to do. The thought of it makes her sick. More than that, it makes her _angry_. 

“Oh, my darling…” she murmurs. “…That isn’t you.” 

Tommy surprises her when he suddenly moves to rest his head in her lap, and she puts her hand on top of his head, stroking his hair. His presence calms her. 

Neither speaks for another minute.

“Where is it? This…place,” Wanda says at last.

“It’s back in…” Tommy pauses, looking up at her. “Wait, why?”

“Tommy, if it’s still operational, then the Avengers need to take care of it.” Her tone is matter-of-fact. “The powered children, there are better ways of—”

“No,” Tommy says, surprising himself with the amount of force in his voice. “No, I don’t want the Avengers involved.”

Wanda is offering to help him do what he should’ve done years ago, and it means a lot, but…he doesn’t want her help. 

It’s not that he’s worried it will be dangerous for her; she could probably flatten the whole place without breaking a sweat. It’s not that he doesn’t trust her, either, it’s just…

It’s still juvie. The kids in there aren’t exactly _innocent_. Not all of their crimes were accidental. How are they going to react to a bunch of adults barging in there, well-meaning or otherwise? What are their solutions going to be? Some kind of training rehabilitation program, maybe, where they can learn to use their powers under adult supervision? Tommy can’t speak for everyone, but frankly, if that was what he was met with upon being released, he would’ve hated it. He would’ve laughed in their faces.

No, if anyone is going to shut the place down and free the boy, it’s going to be him. This is personal.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he adds. Barely a moment has passed. “It’s just, this kid, I’m _like_ him. He’ll trust me.”

He hopes he will, at least. 

Wanda looks apprehensive. She doesn’t like the idea of Tommy going back to that place where he suffered so much, not because she doubts he can handle the mission, but simply because doing so will be hard on him, mentally.

She does not argue the point, though, because she _understands_. She understands about needing closure. After everything that happened to him, he needs this, for himself as much as for anyone else.

“What are you going to do?” she asks.

Tommy pauses, considering that. He has no idea. He can’t just break in and let everyone go. All that’ll do is make him a criminal again and turn those kids into fugitives, and there’s no telling what they’ll do when left to their own devices. How many of the inmates are actually being used as test subjects? There could be dozens, or there could be just one. He probably won’t know until he gets in there. 

“I dunno,” he confesses. “I’ll think of something.”

“Whatever you decide to do, I know it will be the right thing,” Wanda says, realising as she says it that it’s true. Tommy has a reputation for being impulsive and reckless, but he is smarter than he would have others believe. She trusts his judgement, and there is nobody more qualified to make this call than him. 

Tommy is reassured by her words, and he closes his eyes, just enjoying being close to her even if it’s only for a precious few more moments. 

“Just promise me you won’t go back there alone,” Wanda adds, causing Tommy to open his eyes. 

“Yeah, no, I won’t,” he says. Teddy, Billy and Kate, they’ll want to come, just like they came to get _him_ way back when they were just a bunch of hopeless teenagers. They’re family, after all. Just like Cassie and Eli are family, and how Jonas was, too. Once this is over, they should really get around to that reunion they’ve all been talking about. 

“If there’s anything you need, will you tell me?” Wanda asks.

“Yeah. I will,” Tommy mumbles, sighing quietly. 

They don’t move for a moment. Wanda’s hand is comforting and gentle, rubbing circles against his hair with the tips of her fingers. She feels like home.

“You should call your brother,” Wanda says, once Tommy has finally sat up. “I know he’s been worrying about you. All your friends have.” 

“Yeah, you’re right,” Tommy says, taking out his phone and looking at it. There are a couple of messages from Billy that he didn’t hear. “I’ll go over his place, actually. I want to talk to Kate and Teddy, too.” 

“That’s a good idea,” Wanda says. “I need to go out as well, now that you’re okay…have you eaten?”

“I just had, like, two huge buckets of popcorn, and some Peanut M&Ms, so I’m good for another twenty minutes or so,” Tommy says wryly. Wanda looks amused.

“There are some leftovers in the fridge if you want them,” she tells him, getting to her feet.

“Thanks, Mom,” Tommy says, looking up at her without getting up to go just yet. She reaches down to touch his face again, and he leans into it, just for a second. 

They hold each other’s gazes, green eyes meeting green, and then Wanda leans down to kiss the top of his head. “You aren’t what was done to you,” she tells him. “You’re so good…and I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Mom,” Tommy says quietly. 

Tommy waits a moment after she’s gone before he looks at his phone again, typing out a text to Billy.

_r u all at home? am coming over in a minute_

He doesn’t send it immediately, though. Tommy frowns, staring at the screen with a blank expression, before he slowly selects another contact, hitting the call button.

“Hey, Viv? It’s me. Can I ask you for a favour?”


	4. Chapter Four

Tommy gets more or less the exact reaction he was expecting when he shows up at Billy and Teddy’s apartment. 

“Dude, what happened?”

“Are you okay?”

“Have you spoken to Wanda?”

“Where’d you go?”

The questions are all asked with a great deal of force, but the force is not upsetting. It’s…kind of nice to know that they care.

He’s not going to say that, though.

Tommy scratches the back of his neck when Teddy, Kate and Billy finally give him a chance to talk. “New Jersey?” he says lamely, answering the most recent question. “I can explain—”

“Was this about juvie?” Billy asks, causing Tommy to blink. 

“Wait, you know about that?”

“So it _was_ juvie.” Billy deflates as he says it, all three of them do. “I just figured you running off had something to do with the guy we stopped so I tracked him back to the place we got you from.” He hesitates. “You weren’t there, though.”

Tommy runs his hands down his face. “Yeah, no I wasn’t—is he still back there? That kid?”

“Yeah, he is.” Billy’s expression changes. “I’m so sorry, Tommy, I didn’t realise.”

“Doesn’t matter now,” Tommy says matter-of-factly. “Anyway, I’m getting him out. You guys want in?”

“—Of course,” Kate says instantly.

“Hold on one second,” Teddy says. “Can you start from the beginning? You were missing for nearly a day. If you weren’t at juvie, where’d you go?”

“He’s right.” Billy looks at him. “I’m…usually pretty good at finding people, Tommy. Especially people I know. Did—”

“I control time,” Tommy blurts out.

“Oh,” Billy says.

That’s not really an explanation, of course. Tommy can only assume that whatever he did put him on a plane where he wasn’t accessible to Billy’s powers, but he didn’t exactly travel directly into the future, just sped up time around himself and then sprang back into sync with everything else when he stopped. Presumably, if anyone stumbled across him last night they would have seen him sitting there. Would they? Might be worth testing at some point…

“Well, I kind of figured, with your super speed…” Billy says then, earning some raised eyebrows from his brother. They’ve always known Tommy has a weird relationship with the passage of time. “You’re saying there’s more to it than that?”

“Seems like it,” Tommy scratches his nose, thinking. “…Time moves different for me, it just does. When I’m running it’s slower for me than everything else, and I can speed it up around things too, like, to make a plant grow faster. I actually managed to go _back_ a few minutes when I did my very first spell. Pretty cool, right? I’m kind of a big deal.”

Well, he’s not wrong. “I mean,” Billy says, “I will admit that that is actually pretty cool, but the implications—wait, so last night, you were, what, time travelling?”

“I guess so. I was tired, kind of wanted the day to be over and then it just was.”

“ _How_ , though?”

“How?” Tommy repeats, gesturing vaguely. “Dude, I don’t know. How do you _fly_? How d’you, like—I don’t actually know what your powers are, but how do you do _them_? I just do.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just—how long’s this been happening?”

“Since like forever, man, but we only figured it out a week ago. Mom did, I mean. I honestly haven’t thought about it much. I’m not doing anything differently. I’m still just trying to figure out what it all means, you know?”

“Well…if you need anything—”

“—And I appreciate that, I do, you guys are the best,” Tommy says honestly, directing this at all three of them, “but that’s not why I came here. I’m going back to juvie. Not like, as an inmate,” he adds, before any of them have a chance to speak, “as in, I’m shutting it down.”

“Shutting down your old juvie?” Teddy asks. 

“Yeah.” Tommy stops.

He doesn’t talk about juvie much, although it’s not really a secret. They don’t ask, he doesn’t bring it up. It’s a good system, always has been, but as such…he’s not actually sure how much they know, beyond what he shouted the day they broke him out. Jonas knew everything. Cassie knew most of it, too, since he would tell her everything, but both of them were far too sweet to ever push the topic with him while the team was still around. 

_Testing me, probing me, trying to turn me into a living weapon…_

That’s what he said, isn’t it? Tommy sets his jaw, folding his arms to subconsciously cover the crooks of his elbows. He averts his gaze even as he feels all eyes in the room trained on him. 

It’s Kate who speaks first. “Tommy, you know we’re with you every step of the way, but…have you thought about this? How to go about it? Because…if you break someone else out, there’s no telling what they might do. You did almost kill a bunch of people when you got out, and not everyone’s as restrained as you.”

Tommy snickers at that. Restrained. God, he loves Kate Bishop. “Don’t worry, despite what you may be thinking, I am totally one hundred percent objective about this and I _do_ have a plan. Breaking one kid out didn’t change anything before and it won’t now. There’s always going to be someone else out there with powers they can try and weaponise and whose parents don’t give enough of a crap to wonder what’s happening to ‘em.”

If anyone is looking at him with sympathy, Tommy pays it no mind. Teddy is the one who breaks the silence. “So what’s our endgame here?” 

“Well, like, most of the outside world has no idea what’s going on in there,” Tommy says. “Even most of the inmates who aren’t directly part of the weapon program. I dunno how, ah, _government sanctioned_ it actually is but if word were to get out that they were, say, experimenting on children in there…” Tommy shrugs, giving an exaggerated cringe. “I doubt that’d look good in the morning papers. We wouldn’t even have to do anything. The media would do all the work for us.”

“Oh, I get it,” Kate says, nodding. “But how would you prove something like that?”

“They keep records of all the subjects,” Tommy explains. “All the tests that were done, the experimental data, there’s even video footage, I’ve seen it. It should be all the evidence we need to get everyone in that place locked away for life. The Vision managed to access part of it when he was assessing me for the Avengers Fail-Safe program—it’s how Jonas knew to come and get me—but I doubt we’ll be able to hack into it off-site any more, supercomputer teammates or no.”

“He’s right,” Billy says. “The security’s much tighter than when we were there last time, inside and out. I guess they don’t want a repeat of Tommy.”

“Their loss. I’m delightful,” Tommy says automatically. “Okay, but what I’m saying is all we’ll have to do is get in and access the computers in the lab.”

“And then we leak it to the press?” Teddy asks, catching on. 

“I can do you one better.” Tommy grins smugly. “Lucky for us, I’ve got a sister who just _happens_ to be on the team spearheading one of the largest social movements of the decade and is also hooked up to the internet 24/7.”

“Viv,” Billy breathes.

“The Champions,” Kate says, understanding.

Tommy nods. “There are thousands of them, all around the the country, and being against the powerful issuing punishment with undue force is kind of the cornerstone of their movement. If they don’t get us the attention we need, nothing will.”

“Wait, you want to bring Viv in there?” Billy asks, apprehensive for the first time since Tommy started explaining his plan. It’s not that he doesn’t think Viv’s capable, it’s just… 

“No way.” Tommy shakes his head. The same thought has already crossed his mind. He doesn’t want Viv seeing that part of his life, simple as that. _He’s_ not ready for it. “I talked to her before I came over. She’s writing a program for me to run on the computers. It’ll send all of the files to her and she’ll instantly upload it to the internet for all her Champions pals. If the three of you hold off the security while I get to the labs, the whole thing’ll be a piece of cake.”

“And that’s it?” Billy prompts. “Just in, upload the data and then get out?”

Tommy pauses. 

He can only hope that the negative attention gathered by publishing the lab data will force the public and the government to reevaluate its ways of dealing with problem superchildren. Even he is reasonably confident that doing so will be enough to have the juvie program shut down for good. It’s just…what’s to say there aren’t more places across America like it that he doesn’t even know about? Not to mention, frankly, that he doesn’t trust any authority figure to act in the best interests of a powered delinquent teenager, not within an inch of his life. 

So…with all of that being said, does he still want to break out the boy he saw yesterday? Hell yeah, he does, and to bring him as far away from the hellscape of New Jersey as he possibly can. If there are any other kids in the same boat he’ll bring them along for the ride. As for what he’ll actually do after that, he has no idea.

“I mean,” Tommy says, “is that all you’re expecting me to do?”

“No.” All three of them say it in unison.

“Okay, good, I was just checking. Yes, I’m gonna bust the subjects out if and when I get the chance. Leave that with me.” Tommy hesitates. Yeah, he doesn’t know how that’s going to go, but he’ll figure that out as it comes. He always does. “So, are we really doing this?”

“It’s a good plan, Tommy,” Kate says honestly. She can’t help but feel like maybe they’ve all been selling him short on his leadership potential. Back when the team was together, Tommy had a tendency to just go with the flow and follow along with what the others said. He was impulsive as hell, of course, and more or less just did whatever he wanted, just not when it came to forming an actual strategy. “We’re all with you.”

“She’s right.” Billy is sincere, but he can’t shake the nagging feeling of apprehension. “It’s just, Tommy, if the data is what you say it is, it’s going to have your data as well. All the experiments, everything they did to you…”

Tommy becomes visibly tense as Billy says it, but he says nothing.

“…are you…going to be okay with that?” Billy finishes, watching him with concern.

He doesn’t know what happened, not really. He just knows that it was Tommy at his most vulnerable, his most scared, and that Tommy has spent his entire adult life trying to leave it behind. 

“It’s not a secret,” Tommy says matter-of-factly, feeling calm as he says it. “I _want_ people to know what they did to me. You guys can watch it if you want. My parents can watch it for all I care. The whole world can watch it, ‘cause I want them to know that I survived.”

_I want them to know that there’s nothing they can hold against me anymore._

Fuck you, assholes.

 

* * *

 

 

The security is definitely stronger than the last time the Young Avengers were here, but then, so are they.

The two ordinary guards stationed by the outside gate, where last time Jonas, Cassie and Billy were able to walk right in by scrambling the security pad and donning a disguise, are now donned in Mandroid armour. It’s they first thing Tommy notices when they get close. 

“I’m gonna kick their asses,” he says immediately. 

“Ah, you do that, the armour will immediately alert the entire compound that we’re here, let Billy do it,” Kate says, putting a hand on his arm. They’re standing a little way off from the gate, unnoticed thanks to Billy’s powers, but close enough to see what they’re up against. 

“Pfft, like that’s going to matter,” Tommy says. “It’s me. I’ll be in and out before they can lift a finger.”

“Hawkeye is correct.” Viv’s voice comes loud and clear through the receivers in their ears. “It will take several minutes to fully transfer me the data you want, possibly more depending on the size of the files, and that is assuming they do not realise what you are doing and shut off the power. Of course, if I were there in person—”

“I know, I know.” Maybe asking Viv to sit this one out is not the smartest thing he’s ever done, but it’s too late now and he’s not going to regret it. “This is fun though, right? You’re like our mission control.”

“Please do not get used to it.”

Tommy makes a face, and the others shoot him a _look_. 

It takes Billy barely a second to knock out the Mandroids with his powers, surrounding them with blue energy before they slump to the ground while the others run to join him. Tommy didn’t feel it before, but he gets that nagging feeling when he approaches the barred gate opening into the compound. Apprehension, distaste. He’s been to plenty of juvenile detention centres. This has never felt like a juvenile detention centre. 

“I’d watch out for the inside as well,” Billy says, straightening up and then muttering, “ _IwantthegatetoopenIwantthegatetoopen…”_

Tommy debates saying something to the effect of, ‘hey, are you guys good from here?’ but promptly decides that he can’t be bothered, and zips on ahead.

Considering the mess he made when the Young Avengers broke him out, the place is in remarkably good condition. The large, concrete building structures loom ahead, as huge and intimidating as the first time Tommy saw them, but this time, he is no longer scared. He knows what he’s here for, and he has friends watching his back. Tommy reaches the first external door a fraction of a second later, pressing his palm against the locking mechanism and vibrating until it clicks loose. 

The moment he enters the building, an alarm starts blaring. 

“Oh, fuck,” he says aloud, not looking over his shoulder to see the _are you kidding me_ faces his teammates are no-doubt sporting. Instead, he breaks into a run, disappearing from sight. 

The main part of the juvie is closest to the entrance. The research area where his own cell was, where they used to push his powers to their limits away from prying eyes, are on the other side of the facility. 

His cell was always fitted with power dampeners, the effects of which felt something like trying to wade through wet concrete. They counteracted his powers somehow, something in the walls, like an electric current. Tommy has no idea whether that will still work on him now, but he’s ready for anything. He hopes. 

This part of the compound is familiar, and brings him back to reality, looking up and down the corridor he finds himself in. The track is outside, keep going forward. Labs to the left…

Kate’s voice comes through the comms. 

“Tommy, you tripped the alarms!” She sounds out of breath.

“Sorry about that,” he says. “You, er, need me to come back?”

He hears a lot of static that might be a small explosion, followed by, “Do you think we need you to come back?”

“Copy that, see you on the way out, Hawkeye.”

Down the hall to the left…Tommy has only ever come this way in handcuffs before. The thought gives him a weird sense of satisfaction as he knocks down the door at the end, entering the lab. 

It’s evening; they waited until the research staff go home for the day. As such, the first room is empty, but it still fills him with dread. He covers his arms again instinctively. 

It doesn’t sound like anyone knows he’s here yet. Slowing to a walk, Tommy makes his way to the computer station, feeling for the flash drive Viv gave him this morning. “Hey Viv, you still there?” he asks aloud. 

“I am still here,” Viv says, her voice coming through the comms from her house in DC. Like she’d be anywhere else. She doesn’t understand why Tommy would not want her to come. It would be far more efficient than whatever this is. “Put the drive into the computer, I will do the rest.”

“I’m putting it in,” Tommy replies, searching for a USB port and carefully inserting the thumb drive, wiggling the mouse around to wake up the monitor. “It’s done.”

“Alright, now open the program.”

“Doing that, doing that…alright, now what?”

“I’m in,” she says, causing Tommy to grin.

“Nice hacker voice there,” he says.

“Thank you. Please ensure the computer is not disturbed before I am finished. There is a good possibility they know you’re there by now.”

“Yeah, but they don’t know what I’m here _for_.”

The alarms are still blaring, but nobody says anything for a few more minutes. 

Tommy leans against the desk while he waits, looking around, lost in thought. 

It seems so innocuous. This particular room does not look unlike a doctor’s office. He really only ever came in here for physicals. They’d have him work our briefly, check his heart rate, height, weight, take his blood…it honestly wouldn’t have been so bad if he wasn’t drugged out of his mind and didn’t get shocked every time he failed to comply.

Really, though…was it even as bad as he remembers it? It’s not like they ever cut him open or drilled probes into his brain. What about it was so horrible? Was it the suppressors? Being forced to blow stuff up? The needles? All the times he was unable to move? …The powerlessness? 

When Viv speaks again, her voice is much quieter. “Tommy?”

“What’s up, girly?”

“I am sorry. I did not realise…”

Oh. She’s downloading the files? “It’s okay. Thanks for doing this.”

“It is not okay,” she says. 

“What is it? What’s happening?” Billy asks, causing Tommy to start. He honestly forgot they were all on the same channel. 

“Everything’s fine. How are you guys doing out there?”

“We’re doing…good? Thanks for asking.”

“Cool. I’m gonna go look for the kid.”

“Wait, Tommy, you should stay with—”

“Sorry, friends, the Scarlet Witch waits for no man,” Tommy says, exiting the lab again and running off in the direction of his old cell.

This part of the building was completely destroyed back when Tommy escaped. It’s doesn’t look the way he remembers it. There’s a wall where a door should be, and it occurs to him as he goes that he still doesn’t know the boy’s name. How will he know where he is? It’s not as if there are bars to look through.

And then he reaches a large steel door, control pad to the left, and he just—he knows. He knows. 

Reaching for the control panel, Tommy mutters to himself, “Now how do I—”

Then the taser probes hit him in the back. 

Tommy’s legs buckle as he crumples to the ground, writhing in pain but unable to make a sound. His body convulses—probably for a few seconds, but as far as he’s concerned they may as well be hours. When it finally subsides, he takes a sharp, ragged breath, curling his legs up against his chest. 

His head is spinning, his chest is pounding. It’s hardly the first time he’s been tasered, and his powers never work afterwards. Something about it just messes with the way his muscles work, and he can hardly move, let alone summon the energy for super-speed. He stays in place, spluttering while the guard who hit him approaches, grabbing one of Tommy’s unresponsive wrists and fixing a large handcuff to it. This, too, is familiar. They’re enhanced, like the ones the boy had. Stop him from vibrating through or trying to blow them up. 

“It’s been years, Shepherd,” the man says, reaching for Tommy’s other hand. 

“I’m glad _you_ remember me, ‘cause I have no fucking clue who you are,” Tommy tells him, gritting his teeth before he rolls over, the prongs digging painfully into his back. Catching the guy off-guard while he’s still leaning over him, Tommy kicks him right in the stomach, sending him sprawling back. Tommy grimaces, struggling to get up again and wobbling awkwardly, falling to his knees just as another two guards appear from the other direction, both of them clad in Mandroid armour. 

“Are you kidding me?” he asks with a grimace. 

His speed isn’t working. He can’t create an explosion. His friends are too far away to do anything. Without his powers he’s got no chance against that kind of tech…he’s useless again…totally powerless…

Actually, you know what, fuck that self-depreciating nonsense. He’s not powerless. He’s never been powerless a day in his life. There’s power all around him, and like hell is he giving these guys the satisfaction of putting him back in a cage, not even for one minute. He makes a throwing motion with his un-cuffed hand, bringing it forward in a graceful arc, and hurls a crackling ball of magical energy. 

It’s not blue, like Billy’s are, and it’s not a perfect sphere like Wanda’s either. No, it’s rough and formless and indefinite, but it’s him, it’s all him, and it’s undeniably that one perfect shade of red.

The energy bolt hits the closest guard square in the chest, knocking him back just as he’s getting to his feet again. If Tommy might otherwise have taken a moment to dwell on the fact that yes, he _did_ that…he doesn’t right now. He’s angry and resentful and scared, and he _uses_ that, channeling it through himself and into another energy bolt, which he flings at the nearest Mandroid. 

Its circuits short immediately, losing power as it falls backwards. Panting, Tommy backs up a few feet while the other moves closer to him, trying to get enough space between them to throw a third hex. 

“Get the hell _away_ from me,” Tommy yells, throwing it just as he trips on the unconscious body of the first guard. Startled, Tommy stumbles back a few more feet, the energy ball missing its mark altogether and sailing past the Mandroid. He’s about to try for a fourth when the third connects with the control pad on the wall behind its target. 

Sparks fly from the pad, and the lights above the hallway flicker as the security settings controlling the cell’s power dampeners short out. The Mandroid turns to look as well, and both it and Tommy realise what is about to happen just in time to brace for the explosion that follows.

The wall blows out. Tommy brings his elbow up to cover his eyes as he stumbles back. There’s smoke everywhere, blown out from what remains of the wall. Cautiously, Tommy lowers his arm, watching the smoke clear.

The boy is standing at the centre of it, white prison scrubs on his body and a scowl on his face. His hair is messy and dark, and he’s staring at the scene in front of him with caution. The wall is blown out on his other side, too; Tommy can see the lights from the exterior fencing through it. 

It’s like looking in a mirror. 

Tommy takes a step toward him. “Hey—”

The shockwave is enough to knock him back again, this time completely off his feet. The guard is affected too, although the armour protects him somewhat. Without waiting around for an explanation, the kid turns around, and he makes a break for it. 

The guard starts to follow him, and Tommy grimaces, sitting up on his elbows and pulling enough energy together to unleash a final energy bolt, hitting the Mandroid in the back and sending the armour into immediate shutdown. It falls forward with a lifeless ‘clunk’.

Laying in place and panting, Tommy watches the boy’s running figure. 

There are no more guards to intercept him. The rest of them must be off dealing with Billy, Teddy and Kate. He blasts a hole in the fence, ducking through it and disappearing into the night. 

He can’t be too far. He doesn’t have super speed, but then, right now, neither does Tommy. Taking advantage of the momentary pause, Tommy sits up, cringing in pain as he carefully yanks out the two taser prongs, inspecting them for the barbs and then tossing them aside. 

He’ll find the kid. He will. Just…not right now.

Tommy reaches up to the side of his face, realising that his earpiece was knocked out some time during the scuffle. He stands slowly, glancing down at his hands as if expecting to see them still crackling with red. 

Unexpectedly, he grins, straightening up and kicking the nearest decommissioned Mandroid. “You just got Scarlet Witched,” he says, wondering if the person inside is still conscious. He hopes so. 

His hand is pressed to his lower back when he limps out of the corridor a few minutes later, starting back toward the lab where he left Viv’s flash drive, but he doesn’t make it there. A flash of blue, and then suddenly his three best friends in the world are all around him. 

“You weren’t answering your comms, what happened?” Billy asks, grabbing him by the arm to help steady him. 

“I kicked ass, is what happened,” Tommy says, although he’s a little too tired to sound lighthearted. “Lost my receiver. Is it done? The…thing?” 

“Viv’s got the files,” Teddy tells him, taking his other arm. “They’re going live any minute now.”

“Tell her she’s the best. Viv, you’re the best!” Tommy yells this last part at Teddy’s ear, even though his receiver is on the other side. 

Kate pauses, and then looks amused. “She says if that’s true you’ll bring her along next time.”

“We will most definitely do that, but only because you missed out on seeing your big brother be a _total badass._ ” He yells this again, causing Teddy to cringe.

“Did you find him?” Billy asks. “The boy?”

“I did,” Tommy says. “He’s not gonna hurt anyone. I’ll go and get him, once he’s had a chance to calm down, but he’ll be okay tonight, I think. Dude kind of packs a punch,” he says, wincing at the memory. They _could_ go after him. Billy can use his powers to find him, but…as far as the boy is concerned, they’re the ones who got him locked up again. If their brief meeting told Tommy anything, it’s that he doesn’t want to be followed. 

And Tommy’s happy to respect that wish, at least for one night. 

“So what now?” Teddy says. “I think the cops are on their way.”

“We should get out of here,” Tommy says. “And Mom’ll want to know we’re okay.”

“I don’t know about any of you,” Kate says, “but I could really go for some ice cream right about now.”

They mutter in agreement. 

 

* * *

 

 

“ _…All employees of the facility have been suspended and the detainees returned to their families under home confinement pending further investigation…_ ”

“Hell yeah, down with the establishment,” Tommy says, throwing a piece of popcorn at the T.V. 

“ _…The source of the information, the recently formed superhero team known as the Champions, has declined to comment further…_ ”

“What? No way,” Tommy says, nudging Viv with his foot. She’s sitting on the other side of the couch, also watching the broadcast with an interested expression. “You guys should be out there bragging. They think you’re the ones who took the data, right?”

“We _have_ told them otherwise, it wasn’t our intention to—”

“Nah, don’t worry about that,” Tommy says. “You did all the hard work anyway, and honestly, I don’t care who they think did it. I’ve already got way too much attention from this whole thing. Did you know the _Daily Bugle_ called earlier asking me for an interview? It’s like, how’d they even know where I live?”

“What did you tell them?” Viv asks.

“Oh, I’m the one who answered the phone,” Wanda says, causing both of them to look up. She’s standing behind the couch, watching the broadcast thoughtfully. “I hung up before they finished talking.”

“What can I say? I’m hot stuff right now,” Tommy says. 

Wanda purses her lips. Tommy has been awfully nonchalant about this whole ordeal ever since he got home, and they haven’t had the opportunity to talk about it properly, not like she wants them to. 

They hear a knock on the door, and before Wanda has a chance to react, Tommy has already sprung to his feet and run to answer it. “That’ll be the musketeers,” he says, opening the door. “Hey, guys! What took you so long?”

“ _This_ did. I had to get the finishing touches sorted out before I showed it to you,” Kate announces, holding up a large paper bag while Billy and Teddy file into the room after her. 

“Oh, what is it?” Tommy asks, while Viv and Wanda come to join them. 

“Your new costume,” Kate says. 

“I have a new costume?” 

“Yeah.” 

“It had better not look like Billy’s.”

“Hey!” Billy says, in the midst of greeting Viv. 

Kate snorts, ushering them all through to the living room, putting the bag down on the coffee table and taking out the costume while they all sit down. “What do you think?” she asks, holding it up. 

Tommy’s initial suggestion when Kate asked him what he wanted was, ‘this one but red, I guess?’ Looking at it, it’s obvious that Kate has done that as best she can; it’s shape not dissimilar to his original costume, albeit with a different design and colour scheme, although it cuts off at the shoulders and neck. Kate pulls out a pair of red fingerless gloves to match. “These were actually Billy’s idea.”

“Oh, we’re taking fashion tips from Billy now?” Tommy asks, raising his eyebrows as jumps up to grab the gloves and inspect them properly. “What else you got in there?” he asks, noticing there’s still stuff in the bag. 

“Well, headpieces are a Scarlet Witch tradition,” Kate points out, rifling through the bag. “Teddy thought this would work for you. It shouldn’t come off when you run,” she says, tossing him a thick scarlet-coloured headpiece. 

Tommy turns it over in his hands briefly, fingers tracing the faint pattern against the red before he shrugs and puts it on his head. It’s a little reminiscent of the one Wanda used to have, framing the sides of the face, although the tips aren't as high. Part of him had kind of assumed Wanda used magic to keep hers on, but there's actually a barely visible frame that fits around his ears, like a pair of glasses. “Look at me, going full dork,” he says affectionately, directing that at Billy as he makes a reach for the bag of popcorn he abandoned earlier. “You think all this is, uh, witchy enough?” he asks Wanda, his tone mostly joking but not entirely so. 

“Oh, I wore a leotard for years. You’ll be fine,” Wanda promises, although she sounds a little choked up. 

“Alright, what’s the last bit?” Tommy says, leaning forward to reach for the bag. 

Kate grins, taking it away from him. “Don’t freak out,” she says, removing a large bundle of red cloth from it. 

“Is that a _cape_?”

“It’s not a _cape_ , it’s a _cloak_ ,” Billy interrupts, “and it’s awesome.”

“Oh, you had something to do with this?” Tommy asks incredulously. 

“Actually, it was my idea,” Wanda tells him, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “It’s not for fights, it’s for your spell work. This is your colour now; it’s part of you. Wearing it will keep you in touch with that.”

Tommy looks down bashfully, mumbling something, but he reaches out and accepts it anyway. 

This is too much. He wasn’t expecting all of them to have worked on it together. It’s probably going to look super dorky, but then, are there any superhero costumes that don’t? He holds the fabric in his hands tightly. “Well, thank you guys, I guess,” he says, hoping that they understand everything he doesn’t know how to say.

They do.

“I’mgonnagoputthisonbye,” he says, and is gone.

The cloak _does_ kind of look like Billy’s, but actually, Tommy doesn’t think he minds. How about that? It takes him barely a second to change, and he frowns, looking down at himself. It doesn’t look nearly as weird as he thought it would. Saying to tell with it, he puts the cloak on, making his way back into the living room. 

The others all appear to be engaged in conversation when he returns, but upon seeing him, they all go quiet, looking at him in surprise. Even Viv, who hasn’t said much since the others arrived, seems a little taken aback. 

Tommy pauses, immediately self-conscious. “What is it? I look like Billy, right?”

It’s Kate who answers first. “I…was actually going to say you look like Wanda.”

At this, it’s Tommy’s turn to feel surprised, but not unpleasantly so. “Oh…you mean it?”

Everyone except Wanda herself nods, but by now, Tommy is looking only at her, searching for something. Approval, maybe? Wanda, for her part, feels nothing but pride, and it’s there, written on every inch of her face while she looks at him. “I believe congratulations are in order,” she says, walking over to put an arm across her son’s shoulders while she addresses the room. “All of you have achieved something wonderful today, and all of you should be very proud.”

“But especially Viv,” Tommy chimes in, pointing at her with a grin. “The real Champion in our midst.”

Viv looks down at the attention, but there is a smile on her face. 

“Seriously, though,” Tommy says, lowering his hand. “You won the day, Viv. We should totally team up again. For real next time.”

“I have some teammates who would be very keen to see that happen,” Viv admits, thinking with amusement about the messages Ms. Marvel has been sending her all morning. Amongst a myriad of other emotions, she was surprisingly excited to learn that Speed of the Young Avengers was also from New Jersey. 

On the subject of messages, however…there’s also that one she received a few minutes ago. “Actually, though…I do have to go now,” she adds then, somewhat apologetically. “I have school tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah, of course,” Tommy says, breaking away from Wanda so he can go and hug her. Billy gets up as well. “Thanks for coming up all this way.”

“Do you need a lift home?” Billy asks, hugging Viv as well. 

“No, thank you,” Viv tells them. “My father is picking me up.”

“You mean like, in a minivan?” Tommy asks wryly, trying to picture that. 

Viv gives a long pause, before she slowly nods at something past Tommy’s shoulder. He spins around. 

“Is that a _Quinjet_?” Billy asks, squinting in disbelief.

“Next to our _balcony_?” Tommy shades his eyes.

“That is correct,” Viv says, pleased with their reactions.

“Viv,” Tommy says, “You have the _coolest_ Dad ever.”

There are a few things Viv could say, perhaps to do with the fact that Wanda is not the parent the three of them have in common, but she doesn’t. The twins’ history is confusing, their history with her father even more so. In the end, she just leans forward, giving each of them a kiss on the cheek. “I do,” she assures them. “…And perhaps, one day, you would like to join us for tea?” she asks hopefully.

Tommy hesitates, scratching the back of his neck. He doesn’t know that that’s a good idea. He’s never actually met Vision, and in between Jonas and the weird history Vision shares with Wanda, Tommy’s not one hundred percent sure how to feel about him. 

Thankfully, though, Billy answers for both of them. “Tell him that’d be great, Viv.”

Viv is relieved by this response, and Tommy relaxes. Hell, who can say no to that face of hers anyway?

“Goodbye, Billy. Goodbye, Tommy.”

“Take care, Viv.”

“See you around, girly.”

Wanda walks Viv out to the balcony to see her off, while Billy and Tommy return to their seats next to Teddy and Kate respectively. Tommy picks up the popcorn bag.

“I have to say, you did good yesterday, Tommy.” Kate reaches into the bag to grab a few pieces for herself.

“Hey, so did you guys. I just did what I always do.”

“No, seriously,” Kate says. “You planned this whole thing and it went off more or less perfectly. That was all you.”

“You had some real leadership vibes going on,” Teddy adds, and Billy nods in agreement. 

“Oh, come on,” Tommy says, shoving some more popcorn into his mouth to avoid having to talk. 

He’s no leader; he’s always just gone with the flow. He certainly didn’t do anything extraordinary yesterday, at least not when it came to the plan. 

But hey…he did what was needed, and isn’t that what matters, at the end of the day? 

Wanda comes back, sitting down in her chair. “So what do you think of the costume?” she asks Tommy.

“It’s, you know, it’s very red,” he says, not really elaborating, although he has a feeling that such a description also matches his face right about now. 

“What are you going to do now?” It’s Billy who asks the question, genuinely curious.

“I dunno,” Tommy admits. “What about you guys?”

“I think I’ll go back to Los Angeles for a bit,” Kate says. “Sorry, but you two are literally the worst people to live with,” she adds affectionately, looking at Billy and Teddy, who throw up their hands.

“I know this and I accept it graciously,” Billy says, resting his head on Teddy’s shoulder. 

“We’re going to be busy for a while as well,” Teddy says. “Wedding to plan, and all.”

“But you know what, I’m giving Cass and Eli a call first,” Kate says. “This wedding _cannot_ be the first time we’re all together since Cass died.”

“I second that,” Tommy says. “Family reunion.”

He can’t help but be a little bit sad. For a brief moment, they were a team again. The four of them, the same four who showed up at Avengers Mansion that day after the whole team fell apart. It feels bittersweet, that it has to end again, but…it’s not ending, not really. They’re always going to be a family whether they’re Young Avengers or not, and in a way, they’re always going to be Young Avengers, even if they’re Avengers proper. Even if they live to be a hundred years old. You don’t forget where you came from. 

It’s getting into evening by the time Kate, Billy and Teddy are ready to go home. They bid their farewells. Kate makes Tommy promise to stop by tomorrow before she leaves, and Tommy counters by asking if she’s genuinely not expecting him to randomly show up in L.A. to visit her every other weekend. They joke, they laugh, hugs are exchanged. When Tommy finally shuts the door, there’s a smile on his face. 

“Oh, man,” he says, stretching and hearing his joints pop. “What a day, right? You know any spells for conjuring up dinner without doing any actual work?”

“Not as such,” Wanda says.

“Well, I do,” Tommy replies, taking out his phone. “It’s called UberEATS.”

Wanda watches him with a fond expression, although there’s concern there, too. “How are you, Tommy? Really.”

Tommy sighs, lowering the phone. “I’m good, really.” He hesitates. “Did you, um, did you read…”

“I did,” Wanda says, approaching him to place a hand on his back, between his shoulders. It still hurts a little, from where the taser hit, but her touch is gentle. “I’m sorry, Tommy.”

“It’s okay,” Tommy says automatically. “I don’t mind. That’s what I put it out there for.”

“That isn’t what I meant,” Wanda says softly. “I wasn’t there for you, when you needed me most. I know circumstances prevented it, but…I feel like I failed you.”

“You’re here now,” Tommy mumbles, leaning into her. 

It’s hard to imagine Wanda having insecurities about their relationship too. Maybe they’re both still figuring this out. Catching up on lost time. 

Tommy finishes ordering dinner, and then zips off to make tea. 

“So you managed to create an energy bolt,” Wanda prompts, once they’re sitting down. 

“You bet I did,” Tommy says proudly. “I actually thought those were to do with your powers, rather than the witchcraft.”

“When I do it, it’s both,” Wanda says. “There are times when it’s hard to tell where my powers end and my magic begins, but my mother could create similar hexes, and she was not a mutant or otherwise powered, as far as I can tell. Do you think you could do it again now?”

“Um.” Tommy pauses, frowning at his hand in concentration, before he gives up. “Might take some practice.”

“Give it time,” Wanda says. “That is your specialty, after all.”

“Hm.” Tommy takes a sip from his cup. “I’ve been thinking…I kind of want to go travelling,” he admits. 

“Where to?”

“Just, around. This juvie thing…” He pauses. “Honestly, I don’t know how people were getting away with it right under the everyone’s noses, but they were, and if that’s true then there might be others. That’s the problem with powered juvenile delinquents,” he says. “When they’re an adult, you can just kick their butts and stick them in places like the Raft. When it’s a kid…they get to that point ‘cause their parents don’t care, and when they mess up, nobody wants to hear about it. Nobody wants to know that not all the supervillains are people you can just put away for life, so those kids, they get under the radar and they end up as lab rats. Like me.”

“So you want to search for more people like you,” Wanda says. 

“I mean…yeah, I do,” Tommy says. “What we did last night was great and all but I don’t know how much it’s going to change, in the long run. It might help, but I can’t just trust that it will. You want something done, you gotta do it yourself.”

“Then you should do it.” Wanda takes his hand. She could offer to go with him, she could suggest he ask his friends, but she doesn’t. Some journeys have to be undertaken alone. Just like her own, when she set out to cure witchcraft and find the truth about her lineage. Doing that was essential for her, even after she had already been the Scarlet Witch for years. “Just don’t forget to stay in touch. I’ve gotten used to having you around, and I’d like to hear how your spell work is progressing.”

“Hey, getting between cities has never been an issue,” Tommy says, thankful to have her there. 

Setting her cup aside, Wanda puts her arms around him. “I’m very proud of you.” 

Tommy returns the hug, feeling warm and content. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too.”


	5. Epilogue

Tommy finds him rooting through a Goodwill bin in Jersey City at 11:33pm. The clothes are strewn on the ground around him, illuminated by the street lights, but nobody is around to stop him. 

“This looks about your size,” Tommy says, lifting up a discarded t-shirt from the pile and holding it up for comparison. 

The boy startles at Tommy’s sudden arrival, instinctively letting out a small pulse before he’s even realised who he was. Even so, it’s enough to knock the bin over, which hits the pavement with a noisy clang. Tommy cringes, half-expecting to immediately hear sirens, but no, the noise fades back into silence. 

“Dude, come on,” Tommy says.

“It’s you.” The boy is tense, defensive. “What do you want?”

“If you know who I am then you already know why I’m here,” Tommy says. Yeah, he rehearsed that. So what.

“You attacked me!” the kid snaps, raising his hand as if to prepare for another blast. “I was out, and you sent me back!”

“And then I freed you again!” Tommy says, lifting his arm to cover his face. “Doesn’t that make us even?”

The boy hesitates. “That was you?”

“Well, yeah, I don’t just hang out in prison corridors for fun.”

There’s distrust written all over his face. “I thought you worked for them.”

“Why would you think that? Didn’t you see the news yesterday?”

“Do I look like I saw the news yesterday?”

“Alright,” Tommy says, a little crestfallen. “I’m here ‘cause I owe you an apology. And ‘cause I want to offer you a job.”

“A job?”

“Well, it’s probably more like an unpaid internship, at this point, but it does come with great benefits, like free accommodation and video game access courtesy of one Bishop Publishing.”

The kid pauses, taking in Tommy’s costume. “Are you a superhero?”

“I’m trying to be,” Tommy says. 

A moment passes. The kid doesn’t say anything, and Tommy sits down on the curb next to him, still holding the t-shirt. “What’s your deal, anyway? Are you a mutant? Inhuman?”

“Does it matter?”

“Probably not, these days.” Tommy pauses. “Look, kid, the truth is, I was just like you, but I got out. Um, I’m not really one for speeches, but what matters is I made something of myself, and I want to help you do that too, if you want.”

“You’re Shepherd, aren’t you?”

“So you _have_ heard of me.”

“Only ‘cause they never let me forget that I wasn’t as good as you.” He sounds bitter, angry. 

“Whatever they can hold against you, they will,” Tommy says. “If you don’t have anything, they’ll find something.”

The boy puts his chin on his knees, and Tommy realises he’s shivering. It must be cold out here. When’s the last time he had something to eat?

“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” he says, after a moment. “They were following me, and…I just wanted them to leave me alone.”

“You didn’t hurt anyone, it was fine,” Tommy assures him. “And nobody’s coming after you now. Have you got any family?”

“No.”

Tommy doesn’t ask. 

“Kid, you don’t need a costume right away, just think about it. Meantime, why don’t we get you somewhere warm, huh?”

There’s another pause, before the boy finally nods. “Alright…okay.”

Tommy stands up first, offering him a hand. “What’s your name, by the way? I don’t even know.”

“It's Timmy.”

“ _Timmy_?”

“Timmy Sheahan.”

Tommy stifles a laugh, desperately trying to make it sound like a cough, and Timmy bristles. “What?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing, kid, you’re wonderful,” Tommy says, patting him on the back and trying hide a smile. “You want to stop for a burger on the way? My treat.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love receiving comments and kudos! You can also find me on my tumblr at ben-wisehart.tumblr.com if you want to say hi!


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